Edge of the World
by Inanis Incedeco
Summary: Marilina Amell, a blind mage, just wanted to live her life peacefully. But the world is cruel, and soon she will have to become one of the few holding it back from extinction, to stem the tide of reckoning.
1. Prelude

_Author's Note: Thank you so much for checking out this story! I hope that you enjoy it._

 _This is a rewrite of another fic of mine, called Faith From Ashes, one that I'd been working on for a long time and ultimately decided I wasn't happy with. So, am experimenting with this, and will probably be tweaking and tampering with it if you would be so kind as to leave feedback. Thank you, and enjoy the story._

* * *

The morning dawned cold and clear, a hint of a summer's breeze upon the air. Marilina Amell and her mother Revka strode into the markets together, hand in hand.

Mara went from stall to stall, feeling around at the different dresses and outfits of Hightown fashion, quickly finding and picking up one that shimmered and sparkled when the sun touched it. "Momma!" She let out a cry, smiling as her tiny limbs trembled. "This one feel so pretty! Is it pretty?"

Mara was blind, as she had always been since birth, but it didn't do much it dampen her childish enthusiasm for life. She still smiled and played as her friends did, constantly asking what things looked like to other people, always with her nose in her books that she read with her hands. It was enough to bring a joyous smile to Revka's face, to see her daughter able to live even like this.

But today wasn't a day to be smiling.

"It'd look cute on you." Her mother laughed nervously, reaching out a hand to feel the blue fabric flowing smooth and soft. She looked around, her hands wringed together by her waist until her fingers ached, as her eyes darted around the area. In the distance, a man in heavy platemail stood, staring at her. He nodded solemnly at her, and she bowed her head in response. This was happening. This was how it was going to end.

Mara would hate her for the rest of her life for this.

"Momma?" Mara tugged on her sleeve, and Revka looked down at her, swallowing thickly when she saw the innocence in her daughter's dull, unfocused blue eyes, glinting soft and innocent where the sun glimpsed their surface. "Are you okay?"

Revka smiled and nodded. Oh, her sweet little child. So young, and yet so compassionate and loving to everyone and everything. If only she could understand what was about to happen. Then maybe, just maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.

She knelt down beside her daughter, firmly placing a hand on either of her shoulders and meeting her eyes, tears welling in Revka's. "Listen to me, little sweetheart. You are my special little girl, and you were born to do great things. I love you with all my heart. There are... there are going to be some thi... things that are going to happen in the next few days. Things that are going to be difficult, things that you're not going to understand. I just want you to know that, no matter how it may look, no matter how you may feel, I only had you in my heart and that you mother loves you and always will."

"Momma?" Mara asked, quirking her head to the side as her voice quivered. Something was wrong,. But… her mother would protect her. Surely? "What's wrong? What's happening?" And as she spoke, more of those men in armour approached. There were a dozen, two dozen of them, all set with grim, expressionless faces. Mara could hear them, their metallic footsteps sounding so different from everyone else's, and looked around at all of them. Revka closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face, and hugged her daughter one last time, kissing her again and again.

Mara's fingers clawed on her mom's cloak, and her eyes widened. "Mommy! Mommy!" Each cry pierced Revka's heart, and each whimper was like a weight pulling at her chest. She couldn't breathe. Those huge blue eyes... all she could see was ger huge blue eyes, her daughter's pale face.

One of the templars yanked Mara's hand away, and the girl's wails rose in pitch. "Mommy! Please! I'll be good! Mommy! I'll be good!" Revka turned away. She couldn't look. She couldn't. A dry sob caught in her throat as her heart shattered, broken.

Revka leaned against the side of one of the buildings closest to her. Her shoulders slumped. Those huge blue eyes that always reminded her of the sea, that innocent, loving little gaze. This hurt so much.

She had given her daughter one last chance at life. Now it was up to her to do something with it.

* * *

 **Twelve Years Later**

Mara awoke to find herself in hell.

It was damp here, and she could tell it was dark even without sight. It smelled of old rags and mould. This was a place where they threw flesh to decay, along with the minds that belonged to them. An empty void where inconveniences were cast to, where mages were cast away because of the fear that the rest of the world held towards her kind.

A key turned it's way in the door, and she could hear footsteps behind her. Not heavy and metallic, and only one person ever came this early in the day.

"You're early." She grumbled, sitting up and pulling her blindfold on. Her eyes shamed her deeply, and she refused to show them to anyone. From what she had heard, they were dull, glazed over, and lazy, staring in different directions. She would never again suffer a comment on how uncanny they were, on how awful they looked. Not to mention how much the light ached when it shone on them without wearing it.

"You don't know what time it is." Irving replied, sitting on the bed next to her.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" She had slept in her clothes, partially because it was hard to change, and mostly because she was beyond caring. She was dead anyway, so long as she stayed here. What did it matter what she looked like?

"More nightmares?" Irving asked tentatively after a moment, unsure of himself. He cared about Mara, he did, but she had put him in an impossible position. If she stayed like this, withdrawn and catatonic towards the rest of the world…

Mara hissed an angry sigh, and rolled over, facing at him. She could hear his breathing, old and haggard, making this rattling noise… like there was nothing left inside of him. "Stop." She shook her head. "Just stop."

"E-excuse me?" Irving moved his head back a little, taken aback by that.

"Drop the concerned act for ten seconds, okay?" She sat up on one arm, trying her best to meet where his face would be. There was only one way this was going to end, and she accepted that. All that she wanted from him was an ounce of honesty, a second where he wasn't lying to her in one way or another. "Stop acting like this is all for my benefit. You… you keep acting like all of this is about me, about getting me healthy. But it's not. It's about you and your Templars. Just say it. That's all I want. Just tell me that you don't give a shit about me. Okay? That's all I want. Is to hear you tell me the truth." She didn't raise her voice, not really, but rather it took on a desperate, shaken tone that demanded an answer.

Irving was silent a moment, then shook his head a little. "They're going to kill you." Mara sighed again, and rolled back over. Even after all this, she was still force fed this perpetual lie. That The Circle was for her benefit.

"Then just let me die."


	2. Escape

Mara felt as if she had blinked, but didn't her skin move. Reaching up, she realize she didn't have an arm or eyes for that matter.

She was dreaming. In the Fade

" _Welcome_." A gentle, lilting voice called, one that she recognized from her other dreams. Faith. A spirit of it, anyway.

"E-evening." Mara stammered. It was strange to her, being here in the Fade. The Fade was both real and not at the same time, and it was strange, not knowing if anything here was more than just a piece of her mind. Unlike the real world, there was nothing here but what she heard and felt, visuals didn't exist here as it was driven by her own mind. And yet it was still real, to some extent. "Or whatever time it is here."

" _Time doesn't mean much here._ " The voice felt as if it were coming from in front of her, as if she were standing only inches apart. She briefly wondered if the spirit saw her differently, but shook it off as. " _But I do keep track of time as it means to you. You're early, for that matter._ "

"I didn't have anything to do, today." Mara explained. It was odd, that being here in this dream world so filled with danger made her feel… safe. "Irving came by again this morning. The Templars are going to kill me, for having seen you like this. They think that you're some sort of demon, that I'm starting to be possessed. I said to them that I haven't seen you in months, but they don't believe me."

" _Oh, my sweet little child._ " Faith's voice was sad, mournful, as if she would be shaking her head. " _I'm so sorry_."

"It's okay." Mara reassured, giving a small sigh. "It's my fault. I told them that you came to me once, tried to explain everything about it. That you never tried to possess me, that all we ever did was talk to one another. I should have just kept quiet."

That was just it, that Faith had come to her one day, that Mara had been lonely and afraid, and eventually came to accept it in her life, to have companionship from this kind, friendly spirit who understood her. That Faith was her only friend. Mara was at a point in her life where she found herself at a loss for purpose, for any sort of reason to carry on with her life. The only thing that she had was this friendship with a spirit that might not even exist, that might just be a figment of her imagination.

"Faith?" Mara murmured after a moment. "Can I ask you something."

" _Of course_."

"Why are you here?" She asked, a small tremble to her voice. "With me, I mean. Here, watching over me like this. There must be hundreds, thousands of people in the Fade at any given time. Yet you're always here for me. Why?"

Heavy silence hung a moment while Faith chose her words, contemplating them before speaking. " _Because you are… unique._ _You are special. I look at you and I see a… blinding light, of sorts, an aura around you the separates you from any other I have ever seen. Everyone here in the Fade sees it.. If I weren't here, thousands of other demons would be upon you now. We all see it, even your Mages and Templars. Your mother knew it too._ "

"I have no mother." She hissed as old memories began to well up, dragging images of Kirkwall and her childhood back to her. Her mother had sold her, whored her out to the Circle to protect herself. That didn't make her a mother, that made her a selfish bitch.

" _Such violence in your heart._ " Faith's voice was sad, but level and understanding. " _That will change, as all things do. A flame that will splutter and flicker out. And the more you know, the more you grow, every war you fight… this hurt feels like it will last forever, doesn't it? Your severed youth, so wrongfully stolen? You think it will hurt forever. It won't. You will suffer wounds that will never mend, and you will know them for what they are. Hold onto them, for they will pull you towards the end._ "

Mara opened her mouth to speak, and realized she was now awake. She was alone, and there was only one instinct now.

Survive.

* * *

Hours later, as dawn began to rise, a knock came at the door, a gentle and considerate sound, metered evenly. Someone with time to spare, who wasn't eager to get this on with.

A moment later, in came Irving, holding up a candle in the still darkness of the newborn morning. He came to tell her what to say to the Templars today, both to comfort her before her trial, and to help her, that maybe, just maybe, she could live out today. "Mara?" He whispered, looking to where she slept, a bundled form under the blankets, the blue of her robe barely visible poking out from where she curled up. "Mara?"

He pulled back the blanket, and dropped the candle.

Mara was gone.

She had stuffed her robes full of old clothes and moved the blankets so it looked like she was still sleeping soundly in her bed. As Irving found the ruse, she was in the forests of the Bannorn, across the Lake of the Circle, running for her life. No longer collared by her robes, she wore a dark leather jacket and rugged brown pants, her staff held out in front of her to help her navigate the maze of foliage without the help of sight.

Soon, Templars followed. She had several hours head-start, but they were expert trackers of any prey, especially mages. She couldn't run for long.


	3. Hunted

_A.N: So, to those who know about the drama that's been happening lately with my fanfiction… yeah, I'm really sorry. I'm going to be doing my absolute best to continue this story at least. However, I have to admit that… I'm really scared to post anything, so it may be longer between chapters._

* * *

Heavy steel boots thundered across the underbrush of the forest, and Mara could hear them coming, darting over and into the trees, pulling her hood over her head and moving away from the noise. Still onward they came, very clearly following her in the woods. Mara was experienced at moving without sight, but she still needed to use her staff to find trees in front of her and anything she might trip over. The Templars didn't have that disadvantage, and were running much faster than her.

"Mara?" A voice called from behind her, and she froze a moment. It was Cullen, one of her only friends in the whole of the world. Of course they sent him, perhaps in the interest of seeing if he could talk her down, or to prove himself to their order.

"I don't suppose you would believe me if I said no?" She sighed, turning back around to face in his direction. He was the one, she could tell that much from the rustling of his armour and footsteps. It felt a bit insulting, to only have him chasing her. Perhaps others had been sent in other directions after her. Or, more likely, they had figured a blind girl running in the woods wouldn't be much of a challenge.

"You are under arrest escaping a legal institution, for vandalizing property, and resisting arrest." Cullen's voice cracked, closing his eyes a moment before steeling himself and reopening them. "You are hereby placed into the custody of the Circle of Ferelden."

"So that's a no." She sighed, nodding once and lifting her head to face them down. "Well I'm not going with you. I am never, _ever_ going back into that hell. Whatever that costs."

"Mara, please," He begged. "Be reasonable. If you come back with me, willingly I'm certain they won't be that harsh in their punishment."

Mara shook her head. "You always made life easier for me, Cullen. But you have no idea what I endured back there, how many times I had to endure being beaten and bloodied, how many times I went to see a friend only to find they had been dragged off, never to be seen again..." She hissed, stepping forward. "Forget it. I'm not going back. If that means you kill me, fine. I'll die out here than live in there."

Silence hung in the air a moment, and then he nodded sadly, drawing his sword. "If that's the way it has to be." He sighed, and began forward.

He didn't make it a full step before Mara summoned all of the magic she could and lashed it out at him, sending him off of his feet and down into the dirt. Of course that didn't last long until he was back on his feet. A flash came from his hands, and Mara felt like she was choking. That was why the Templars excelled at hunting mages, they could shut off their source of magic like that, bringing great agony to the mage.

He sprinted forward, blade in hand, and Mara lashed out, desperately batting him away with her staff, and managed to knock the sword from his hand. Lasting out again, he grabbed her staff this time and yanked it front her hand, tossing it away and hitting her across the face, sending her into the dirt.

Scrambling to her feet, Mara screamed in a flash of pain as his sword found her chest, stabbing out through the back, and she fell to the ground. She fell back into the dirt, choking on her blood and wailing miserably. A second later, she screamed as he pulled the blade back out, laying there jerking in her agony. Cullen stood over her, silent as she gasped for breath, rolling over and onto her side.

"Mara, I-"

"Shut up." She sobbed, hands growing dark where they clutched at the wound. "Just… shut up… and do what you're going to do."

He stood in silence a moment longer. Cullen knew what he had to do, but… he couldn't. Not here, not to her. He simply sheathed his sword and left her to her fate.

Mara cursed to herself, and rolled onto her back until the pain faded into nothing.

* * *

Knight-commander Greagoir and Irving both awaited Cullen at the gates of the tower, Greagoir standing with his arms crossed. Cullen immediately knelt, but was quickly ushered to his feet.

"Well?" The Commander asked. "What happened?"

"I..." Cullen's voice caught in his throat. He hadn't the courage to kill her, but neither enough to lie to these men. "She resisted."

Thankfully, that was all that needed to be said. Greagoir sighed and turned to Irving, who had his head hung in shame. His apprentice, one of the most brilliant minds he had ever come across… dead. How could he have allowed it to come to this?

"So that's it then." Greagoir shook his head. "The seeress is dead then."

"So it is." He nodded, keeping his head lowered. They would remember her. Such a special and unique soul… wasted. The Circle would need to remember her. "I failed her for the last time."

"She did this, not you." Greagoir motioned, and Cullen scurried away on his business. "What do you make of her last vision? Do you think it was about her death?"

"No." Irving shook his head. "No, that wasn't it at all. That one has yet to come true."

"Perhaps. We will have to see."

They turned back into the tower, and walked with steps a little heavier than before. Much as they might like to think that the prophetic words she spoke were of her own death, they knew better. They walked away, her words still ringing in their ears, dreading it's meaning.

 _The War is coming._


	4. Captured

Alistair sat with his heels digging into the volcanic gravel of the ridge, eyes glassing over the valley beneath them, studying the land. There was a river running just under them, and then nothing but trees and dirt for miles. He could see exactly where he was headed: the stone bricks of an ancient and crumbling fortress poked out of the tree canopy, but he didn't like it in the slightest. It was too dense in the forest, too many corners and places for an ambush. If anyone was expecting him…

But he had his orders, and wasn't about to go back empty-handed. Giving a heavy sigh, and checking his weapon once more, he began the descent into the forest. Just a routine scavenge, he told himself. But there was never such a thing.

* * *

 _Fire crackles in the distance, a tight cocoon around the arms. Chest tight, unable to breathe, noises in the distance. A whisper of rotten flesh on the air. Not like this, it can't end like this. The noises draw closer, breath short and terrified._

 _Struggling, mind and heart racing in tandem, reaching out in desperation to grab at something solid and metal on the floor, and yanking upwards. Noises draw closer…_

Mara gasped as she awoke, jerking her head up to face ahead, gasping for breath, sweat cold and heavy on her forehead. Another dream, another She reached up a hand to wipe it away, only to give a strangled scream of horror as she realized she was trapped. A tightly wound cocoon of rough linen and cloth sealing her struggling form in it's grasp. She tried to summon whatever magic she could to rip free, but it failed her. There was something hanging over this place that kept her magic away from her, and her stomach knotted itself further into a ball.

As she struggled against it, the smell crashed into her, a groan of pain escaping Mara's lips as terrified tears stripped through her cheeks. It smelled like she imagined that decayed, fetid meat would, almost like…

Her thrashing ceased a moment as she froze to retch over her tomb of wrappings. What in the hell had happened in the time since darkness had claimed her? She had… had tried to fight off Cullen, and been bested, that much she remembered in great detail. Then pain had led to darkness, and… nothing. It had hurt so much that she had, quite simply, thought it was the end. It didn't make any sense.

She paused once more as a noise sounded in the distance. Footsteps. "Hello?" Her voice trembled, quiet and broken. "Hello?" Her voice was a bit higher, and the footsteps ceased, having heard her. Her heart stopped a moment, and then the scuffling started once more, coming closer…

"Oh no." She whispered. Why had she done that? Of course this wasn't a friendly place. _Stupid… stupid..._

Mara began to struggle even harder, thrashing about desperately. The noises drew closer, and she began to scramble about in a frenzy, her chest tight and breath coming in short and heavy.

"Come on." She begged desperately to someone, anyone who would listen. "Come on. I have _not_ come this far to die." Then it hit her. Something from her dreams, there was… something…

Her hand slipped out to underneath the wrappings, and she felt a small piece of ragged and broken metal on the floor beneath her. Gasping, she yanked it upward and ripped through the bindings around her. The figures were drawing close as she jumped to her feet, stumbling as feeling returned to her whole body. Something didn't feel quite _right_ about her, as if she had caught sick, a fever racing through her body. Some sort of disabling herb, perhaps. It was as if her very soul had been set aflame.

But there was no time to ponder on it. The footsteps were drawing ever nearer, and she ran as fast as her legs would carry her, away from the noise.

A feral growl hissed out of one of the forms chasing her, and she felt it moving behind her. Mara tried to move out of it's path, but was tackled to the ground. It growled again, barking at her in it's guttural language. Mara screamed, kicking and thrashing until she broke from it's grasp, scurrying away. It tried to lunge at her once more, but she kicked it as it did, caving in the beast's skull as she did. A small victory, but more were coming. Many more, from the noise coming out of the cave, so Mara scrambled to her feet and continued running. Up ahead was warm, as if from the sun.

A wave of heat and warmth washed over her, and Mara gasped as a surge of magic began to return to her. She took a deep breath, and yelled out as she let every last ounce of her power loose in a single raw and chaotic spell; every ounce of the pain, terror and sadness, not to mention anger and adrenaline, all released in a single moment. The beasts that had been chasing her howled in pain as they were consumed by it, and soon the cave crumbled down upon itself under weight of her the power.

Her energy spent, energy and terror now replaced by exhaustion and agony, Mara collapsed. The pain inside of her had only grown stronger, every inch of her body aching and burning from the inside. Footsteps approached from behind her, but she didn't have the energy to stand, let alone keep fighting.

"Well, well." A woman's voice called. "What have we here?"

* * *

Alistair gave a great, heaving sigh as he approached the fortress. Nothing had happened in the hour or more he had been in the forest, and that did nothing but worry him further. A wolf, or a bear attack, a hunter's trap in the dirt, something, anything would have relaxed him. It was if the whole world were holding it's breath, watching him acting out on a play. He drew his blade, and went on forward.

It was a dilapidated old fortress, crumbling walls and falling beams. There, sitting in the middle of the main hall, was a figure, writhing on the floor. He knelt, cautiously eyeing for traps of any sort, then rolled her onto her back. She was a dark haired woman, wearing a blindfold over her eyes. More than that, she was suffering deep in the throes of Blight Sickness, her skin pale and veins black. She wouldn't survive more than a few hours without help.

Making a decision, he hoisted her over his shoulder, and continued on. His mission needed to be completed, but he couldn't just leave her here. If there was anything that could be done for her, Duncan would be the one to know. As he went on, she whispered one thing over and over in her sleep:

" _Beware the Teyrn."_


	5. Awakening

_The city is on fire, coated in flames. Gasping, falling to my knees as fire consumes the air. Anxiety taking over, ice climbing through arm veins while trying desperately to stand. Can hear the crackling of the fire swallowing the houses, the ghastly shouts, screams of innocents, children, crying out in pain._

 _A dragon's roar deafens everything else, and falling face-first into the ground..._

* * *

Mara awoke with a start, her head jolting upwards. She was lying in a bed, hard but still comfortable enough. For a moment she wondered where she was, then scrambled up to her feet as she realized she didn't have the answer. She was still wearing the tattered remains of her clothes she had worn in the escape from the Circle, covered in mud and dirt, and she felt much better than she had when she had fallen asleep, the fire inside of her having been extinguished. Though her staff was missing, she would be able to get far without it helping her walk.

"So, you're awake." A voice called, and she froze. "I was starting to think we'd lost you."

Footsteps came closer, and she stepped back into the wall. "That's close enough." She stammered, chest wound tightly into a knot. "Where am I?"

"I'm assuming you're blind?" He asked, and she nodded slowly. "Mmm, I thought so. I was hoping you could tell me what, and why, you were on our property? You've been in and out for several days ever since we found you."

"Well..." She started, speaking slowly and listening intently for any further footsteps. "I was..." Oh Maker, what should she say? She couldn't just go around telling people she had escaped from the Circle! "I was… robbed, on the side of the road." It was true enough, and the man nodded. "He stabbed me, and left me for dead. When I woke up, I was trapped in this… I don't know what it was, some sort cocoon."

"Truly?" He asked, and Mara nodded. "Maker. We didn't… well, what happened next?"

"I… well, I managed to escape." No point in telling them about the seer abilities she had, especially if no one knew she was a mage. "These… things chased after me. They didn't sound human, but I have no idea what they were. I… managed to get away, and collapsed once I was safe. I felt… terribly, terribly sick, and couldn't keep going. I apologize if I stumbled onto your property, I had no intention to. Whoever robbed me left me without my walking stick, so I couldn't have found the road."

"It was not your fault." The man shook his head. "Don't give it another thought."

"Thank you." Mara smiled a little. "Who are you, if I might ask?"

"Duncan."

"Mara." She nodded. "Thank you for helping me, Duncan. I appreciate your help so much, but I… don't think I can make it to town on my own, especially not without my walking stick. Could you be so kind as to help me again?"

"Well..." He drawled, the word slow and measured. "I was actually hoping you could help me."

"Oh." Mara froze a moment, then rubbed her neck nervously. "I… don't know how much a blind, lost little girl can do for you, but I can try, sure."

Duncan gave a brief sigh, and stepped closer. "Tell me, do you know anything about Darkspawn?"

"Darkspawn?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "A little. They had a book on them in the… back home. They're monsters, live underground and fight with the Dwarves, correct?" He nodded. "The Chantry says that man's pride created them when they challenged the Maker, the first sin."

"That is correct." Duncan nodded. "They occasionally make their way to the surface, typically no more than a few at a time… except during Blights, when a leader arises and leads them to war, and the Grey Wardens push them back."

"Right." Mara nodded. "The start of recorded history was when the first Blight ended, when the Grey Wardens struck down their leader and beat them back into the underground. But, what's the point of this?"

Duncan sighed, and silence hung still in the air a moment before he spoke again. "I am the Commander of the Grey Wardens here in Ferelden, it was one of our fortresses that we found you in."

"Oh." Mara stammered, unsure of what to do until she knelt. That felt right, or at least proper. "F-forgive me, I didn't know."

Duncan chuckled, helping her to her feet. "Don't worry. Most people could tell from the uniform, but obviously not for you." She smiled, and felt a bit relieved. At least she was in reputable hands, not just on some strange man's land. But still, why had he told her all of this?

"Do you think a Blight is happening?" She asked, and he nodded. "And… what was it that you wanted to ask of me?"

"Well… you see, we're certain that you were abducted by Darkspawn while you were unconscious. Those were the beasts you escaped from. They put any living people in those… traps to… well, to turn them into more Darkspawn." Mara flinched involuntarily. So that was the hell she had escaped from. And the smell… "Not a pleasant idea, hmm?" She shook her head vehemently. "Well, when we found you, that illness that you felt was Blight Sickness. If you're lucky, it kills you, and if you're not..."

"Then how come I'm still here?" She asked. "I'm obviously not a Darkspawn. At least, I hope not, and I'm certain I'm not dead."

"There is a third option." He nodded. "Since we fight the Darkspawn, Wardens do have a cure for their sickness. Once you take it, you're immune to them, but the cure… isn't cheap, for us or you. We went to great expense to save your life."

"Why?" Mara whispered in turn. "I mean, I'm beyond grateful, but… I'm just a blind teenager. I can't possibly be helpful enough to help you with… well, with these Darkspawn, or anything else for that matter."

"Maybe not." Duncan shrugged. "But I think you can. You are a Mage, after all."

"I-" Her voice caught in her throat. How in the world…? Of course they knew. Of course she hadn't been able to keep it hidden. Stupid, stupid. She sighed. "Yeah. But if you went through all that time and effort just to send me back to the Circle, you may as well have just let me die. I am _never_ going back there, let me make it perfectly clear."

Duncan chuckled. "You're passionate. I like that. Don't worry, we didn't do all that just to send you back. But… we need help, from anyone skilled, and we're desperately short on help from any mages, the Circle's been… stingy, to say the least."

"That sounds like them." Mara nodded. "I… I don't know. I understand that you need help, and I definitely owe you, but… I honestly have no idea what I could possibly do to help you."

"I'm not going to make you stay." Duncan's voice had a clear note of reluctance, far from eager to let any potential help go. "But I'll point out that any and all Mages who join the Grey Wardens are officially a part of a government-sanctioned establishment and no longer to be captured and institutionalized into a Circle. And the story of a random robbing and murder, in this part of the country, with the King and his men so close..."

"...Is much harder to believe." She finished. "I get your point. I still don't know what exactly I can do to help you, but… if you have a place for me, I'll help in any way I can."

"Excellent" Duncan smiled. "Well, I have other places to be, but I'll send a man down here as soon as I can. He'll bring you a fresh uniform to replace those tattered old clothes, and a new _'walking stick'_ for you. His name is Alistair, an eager young lad, and he'll be your partner while you're with us. He's the one that saved you, so try to play nice."

"Alistair." Mara repeated, then smiled. "Sounds good. Thank you once again."

* * *

A gentle knock came at the door, and Mara perked up. "Come in." She called, and the door opened, heavy boots marred by a shivering, almost nervous pace as they entered into the room.

"Hey." A man's voice called. "Mara, right?"

"That's right." Mara nodded, not standing from where she sat on the bed. "You must be Alistair."

"That's right." He smiled, holding something out to her her, which she took gratefully. "Some new clothes for you. From the looks of you, you look like you could use them."

Mara chuckled, laying them in her lap. "Always was ugly, I suppose. Now the outside matches."

"Oh, don't say that." Alistair shook his head. "Those uniforms can make anyone look good. I mean, look at me." He paused a moment. "Oh." He mumbled after a second as he realized what he had just said. "Right. I… didn't mean to… I..."

She paused a second before she realized what he had meant, throwing her head back and laughing. "Oh, think nothing of it." She waved it off, feeling the clothes. They weren't as fine or silky as her robes from the Circle, but they were thick and rugged to touch, heavy and weighted. "Thank you for the uniform."

"Let me know if they don't fit." Alistair held out something new. "And here. You'll be needing this." It was a staff, denser than her last one, but definitely well-made, with power coursing through it's knotted wood.

"Thank you." She repeated, running her fingers over it. "I'll certainly be needing this if I want to get anywhere."

"Speaking of that," Alistair said, and she looked up. "My room is just directly on your right in this hallway, if you ever need me. Normally I'd show you, but..."

"I get it." She nodded. "Thank you."

"Just come in when you wake tomorrow." He smiled. "I'll take you to Duncan, and we'll see what he has for us to do."

"Great." She nodded emphatically. "Erm… what time is it now, exactly? I tend to be good at keeping track of it, but all this being unconscious and all..."

"Oh." He shook his head. "Of course. It's… late evening about. One of the senior Wardens always calls when it's lights out, if that helps."

"That does, thanks." She smiled. "So, you'll be with me while I'm with the Wardens?"

"Yeah." Alistair nodded. "The Wardens tend to pair two or more Wardens up into teams. We don't work quite so well alone. I mean, if we get swarmed by a horde of Darkspawn by ourselves…" He shook his head. "From what I know, it's pretty rare to have a Warden with a… disability like yours, so I wouldn't be surprised if you got put in a bigger group pretty soon." He paused a moment, rubbing his neck. "U-unless it's rude to call you that, sorry, I don't know of a proper term, I-"

"It's fine." She shook her head. "But, please, just think of me as Mara, not _'that blind Warden'_. I'd rather earn your respect as a normal person than as someone you feel bad for. The extraordinary isn't in what we are, but in what we do."

"Mara it is then." He smiled, and nodded a little. "Well, before I embarrass myself further, I should leave you to rest."

He turned and left, shutting the door behind him, and soon enough the voice came calling down to tell them it was bedtime. Mara peeled out of her tattered old clothes, tossing them in the corner, and set the new uniform and her staff under the bed before pulling the covers over herself. Sleep never came for her though, always tossing over onto her sides and trying to find comfort. Anxiety would keep her awake the whole night, and all she could do was pray for an easier day tomorrow.

"Come on, Mara." She whispered to herself. "Remember what mom told you. Just keep moving. Always forward. It's time to do the extraordinary."


	6. Interim

One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.

It was odd, to Mara. The mayhem of combat seemed so terrifying when they had begun, a chaotic and confused thing where nothing made any sense. But now, after only a few short days of training together, things had become so much clearer. It all fell into a comfortable rhythm, almost. Like a dance, where the goal was to whittle down the other person's amount of moves and force them to do something stupid.

Alistair's blunted sword came down upon her staff, sticking into the wood, and she grunted as her muscles buckled under the weight. The first time they had done this, she had panicked and dropped the staff. Now she knew enough to use his stuck sword to her advantage, twisting his arm around, ripping the sword from his hand, and tripping him with the staff in a single, smooth motion.

Alistair began to laugh, and Mara smiled as she helped him to his feet. "All these years of training," He chuckled, dusting himself off. "And now I'm getting beaten by a blind girl."

"Never underestimate your enemy." She reminded him, yanking his sword from where it had stuck in the staff, handing it over. "Always expect more of them than they can deliver."

"What pride had wrought." He shook his head. "Good to remember, to be humbled occasionally." He sheathed his sword. "But, I do have to ask: How in the world do you do that? I mean, you can't see what I'm doing to stop me."

Mara shrugged. "Well… the magic helps, I think. I don't know what normal people feel like, but… if I focus, really, really hard, I can almost feel this… I don't know, heartbeat in every person, just this faint little thing that helps me feel them."

Alistair shook his head. "No, that's not a normal thing. I've known mages, and never heard about anything like that."

"Probably just me." Mara shrugged. "But beyond that, you shouldn't be focusing entirely on your sight. Anyone could hear you clanking around in that armour of yours, not to mention I don't think you've bathed in months."

Alistair laughed again. "Fair point. Let's just hope that the Darkspawn don't smell as well as you."

"Alistair! Mara!" Duncan's voice came, and they turned to face him. "Come quickly, there's someone I want you to meet."

They followed with him, Mara running her staff along the ground in front of her to help her find her way, but the easiest part was just following behind Alistair.

"Who are we meeting?" Alistair asked, having to keep a brisk pace to keep up with Duncan.

"Reinforcements."

Mara turned her head to Alistair, but he only shrugged uselessly. Duncan never talked more than he wanted to, so they would just have to wait. Sure enough, he soon stopped in his tracks, and they came to a halt.

"I would like the two of you to meet Cailan, the king of Ferelden."

Mara froze a moment, then immediately fell to a knee out of respect, putting a hand to her chest. "G-g-good day to you, your majesty." Cailan and Duncan both began to laugh at once, and her heart dropped. What had she done? Wasn't this proper?

"Mara." Alistair hissed. "Grey Wardens aren't supposed to bow to anyone, even a king."

"Oh." She scrambled to her feet. "S-sorry, I'm the newest recruit."

"It's alright." Cailan chuckled, stepping towards her. "Though there's no need for formalities. We'll be shedding blood together, after all, brothers in arms and all that." He offered a hand out to her. "Might I know your name?"

"Marilina." She took his hand, a firm shake and nodding her head. "Marilina Amell."

"Amell?" He raised an eyebrow. "You're a long way from Kirkwall."

"Not as far as I would like."

"I see." He nodded. "Well, we're lucky to have you. The Grey Wardens can always use more help, from what I understand."

"We should get going." Another voice came, this one rough and gravelly. "We don't have much time."

"Alright, alright." Cailan gave an exasperated sigh. "So impatient, Loghain. We did just march a week to get here, we could all use a moment to rest."

"The sooner we leave, the better." Loghain shook his head. "I'm already starting to hate this place. Something grim hangs here."

"Our scouts say that the Darkspawn horde should be in the valley by this time tomorrow." Duncan nodded. "Rest your men after their march. We'll meet you tomorrow morning with our battle plans."

* * *

"Do you know what we're planning?" Mara asked as Alistair guided her down to her room, but he shook his head.

"I don't." He sighed just a little. "Grey Wardens sure do love their secrets. I don't know our plans, how many of us there are, or even if we're the only ones in Ferelden. I mean, you normally don't get told about the Joining until a few seconds before you do it. You were... quite an exception."

"That's me." Mara chuckled, shaking her head. "The exception to everything." Alistair laughed, which made her smile grow just a bit wider.

"Well, here we are." He stopped, and she nodded appreciatively. She was probably at a point where she could make it here on her own, this place was very distinct in where you were at a given time, but she enjoyed the company regardless. Alistair was a nice man, reminded her of Cullen in a lot of ways, and she was glad to have him as a friend in this unfamiliar place.

"Hey, Mara?" He asked, and she stopped mid-step, turning to face in his direction. "Listen, something's been bothering me that I wanted to ask you, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead." She shrugged, leaning against the doorway.

"Why are you here?" Mara raised an eyebrow, and he continued hastily. "I mean, I'm grateful and all, really. You're a nice person, and you're probably more skilled at this than I am. When everything goes down, I'm glad you're going to have my back. But... the Grey Wardens are made up mostly of conscripts and former soldiers, plus people who lose their families to the Blight and want revenge on Darkspawn. You... are different. The exception, as you said. Duncan took quite a risk on saving you, and you stayed. Even though you didn't have to. I'm curious as to why."

"Why are you here?" She asked back, and he didn't answer for a moment, the question taking him off guard.

"I guess I have nowhere else to be." He answered at last.

"Neither do I, really." She sighed. "The Circle is a hellhole, at least for me. I'm never going back there, even if that costs my life. Beyond that, I've never known anything else, except some blurry memories of being a little kid. The Grey Wardens seem as good a place to end up as any."

"Is that it?" He asked, his voice sounding a little disappointed. "You just... showed up here, and didn't mind going to war with us?"

Mara sighed again, propping herself against her staff. "No." She admitted. "I guess not. I mean, it's a big part of it, sure. But... Alistair, sometimes I have these... well, visions, for lack of a better word. It's like what I understand normal dreaming is like for people, except without sight. I smell, feel, hear all these things. And they always come true. The Circle called me a seeress, something of a prophet. They're very indistinct, and I can't tell you exactly what will happen, only the bits and pieces I get. My instincts are the only thing that knows what they mean, so I've learned to rely on them completely. And they tell me that, right here, with all of you... is right where I belong."

Silence hung a moment, and then Alistair nodded. "I suppose I could see that, if that's the way you were." He laughed. "I don't suppose you could tell me how not to be killed in the battle tomorrow?"

Mara chuckled and shook her head. "I would if I could." She pushed herself off of the wall, staff in hand, and clasped him on the shoulder. "But there's something that I've learned, in the last few days. Back in the Circle, I always yearned for an easier life, to go back home and live an ordinary, peaceful existence, away from all of this. But the thing is, is that everyone, from student, to warrior, to king, all have their troubles. You can spend your life praying for an easier life... or you can spend your life becoming a stronger person, so that no matter what comes your way, you can be ready for it."

Alistair thought on that a moment, and then nodded. "I like that." He agreed, smiling and clasping her on the shoulder in turn. "Well, I should be letting you get to bed. But, if you do see me in your visions, let me know, hm?"

"Alright." She laughed, turning back to the door. "Will do. G'night, Alistair."


	7. The Fall

Looking back on it later, the thing about the Battle of Ostagar that Mara remember the most wasn't the Darkspawn, or the fighting, or the death. It was just how… quiet it was. Surely the soldiers had concerns, doubts. Many had private, traitorous thoughts of their own. But no one said a word. Not when the soldiers marched off to war, not when Alistair and Mara split from the main group for their primary objective, and not when the Darkspawn arrived. Not a word.

Mara and Alistair probably got the easiest part of the battle. They also got the worst. As the newest, and youngest, members of the Wardens, they were given guard duty instead of any front-line combat. They were sent to the Tower of Ishal, waiting at the top with a pile of signal kindling. The King and the rest of the Grey Wardens were to engage the horde of Darkspawn directly. Then, when Duncan sent a signal to them, Mara and Alistair were to light the consuming flame of the kindling, which in turn would signal Teyrn Loghain and their entire reinforcement garrison to charge in and flank the Darkspawn, smashing through their lines.

It was an easy job, and the worst they could have been given. Mara sat in the corner, head in her hands as she listened to steel clashing on steel below, the ghastly screams of horror and death, the overwhelming stench of burning and decaying flesh, while Alistair watched in frozen horror from a window. She half-wished she was back in the hellish Circle, away from all of this, and half that she was on the battlefield, able to do something, anything, to save them.

Here they were, trapped, waiting on a signal. A signal that would do nothing.

* * *

Teyrn Loghain watched in equal horror from his position on the hills overlooking the battlefield. His men were trained, rested and ready to fight, but they would all be killed regardless, surely. This plan was foolish, to the point of suicidal. The Darkspawn horde vastly outnumbered them, even with all their men, and it would have taken meticulous planning and flawless execution to have overcome them. But instead he used this elementary flanking plan, in hopes that their shock would be enough to undo them. Cailan thought that his armies, and the legend of the Grey Wardens, would be enough to protect him.

He shook his head. He had seen many atrocities, but perhaps this was the most insulting of them all. He had fought side-by-side with Maric, Cailan's father, and was proud to have been his friend. Together they had won hundreds of victories, driven Orlais out of their country, reclaimed a throne together. And here was his fool son, casting it all away, just so he could have the glory of being the King who slew a Blight.

"I'm glad you're not here." He shook his head, muttering both to himself, and to the fallen King if he was listening. "To witness this... embarrassment, this insult, to what we accomplished. If only you were here..."

"Ser?" It was a woman's voice, his second in command, and he sighed, turning to face her. "Did you say something?"

"Nothing important." He s hook his head. "Just... thinking."

"When do we ride to help them?" She asked.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" She raised an eyebrow, and Loghain didn't respond. "Ser?"

"Just... have the men ready for anything, on my command." He ordered, not looking back. She stayed silent a moment, then nodded mutely, walking away and yelling orders to the lines of soldiers.

Down below, Cailan and his forces were being massacred. The Grey Wardens fought gallantly, with awe-inspiring, almost superhuman feats of strength and agility. They were bred to defeat Darkspawn, and to this they excelled. One man could cleave through a dozen Darkspawn at a time before falling. But there was so few of them, less than a thousand, and they were so greatly outnumbered that even their power couldn't save them. If each one could kill a hundred Darkspawn at a time, perhaps this could be salvaged, but not even legends can defeat odds so heavily stacked against them.

Cailan's forces didn't fare as well. Most of them could cut down a Darkspawn or two before suffering revenge for their actions. Some couldn't even managed that. These were men trained for roadway policing and keeping the peace among squabbling nobility, not for fighting a war against an army of unholy creatures, thought by many to be little more than fairy tales.

Loghain turned back and did a quick estimate of his own men. Perhaps five thousand, all things considered. Maybe less. Granted, he had spent so many hours training them, getting them ready for whatever came, but still… even if they held the element of surprise…

He looked down, twisting his hands together, and closed his eyes.

* * *

"There it is!" Alistair shouted, looking back from the window and gesturing wildly at Mara. "The signal! Light the fire!"

Alistair hadn't finished his sentence by the time Mara was bringing magic to her fingers, snapping and allowing a spark of flame to engulf the pile of kindling, erupting into a geyser of flame that carried up and into the night. He began cheering as it did, running back over to the window, shouting excitedly for the soldiers on the field. Mara smiled a little, stepping towards him and away from the fire. They had done their job.

Then Alistair's cheering died.

"What?" She asked after he had fallen silent a moment. "What's happening?"

"Loghain." He whispered. "He… his men are falling back."

Mara's heart stopped a moment, her veins filled with ice creeping up them. "What?" She whispered, unable to comprehend what had been said. "They… they're running away?" Alistair nodded, unable to speak. "Why? Did something happen?"

"I don't know." He shook his head, leaning forward to see even the slightest bit better. "Surely they're just repositioning. They can't just be abandoning us. Surely..."

 _'Run'_. It was if everything about her, her instincts, the seer, Faith, her magic… all spoke out in one voice, all at once, shouting at her. Something was terribly, terribly wrong, and they had to leave.

 _'Run'_

"What is he doing?!" Alistair shouted, pounding a hand on the window. "We're getting slaughtered out there! Where is Loghain?!"

"Alistair." She breathed, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We have to get out of here."

"What?!" He turned, now shouting at her instead. "Like he did?! Just turn and run?!"

"Listen to me." She kept her voice level and calm, knowing she had to be productive and sociable to get him to calm down. "I'm never wrong about these things. If I were, I'd have died in that cave. Something is… terribly, terribly wrong."

"So we just turn and run away? Abandon them?" He hissed, shaking his head. "No. We can't do that. Come with me, we'll go down there and join the battle, help them out."

"Alistair, listen to yourself." She begged. "Everyone down there is dying, and we don't have a chance. Whatever is happening… anyone who stays is going to be killed." He sighed, and looked away. She lowered her hand, staring in his direction. "Alistair." She whispered, pleading. "Please. I need you. We have to leave. If you stay here, you'll die. And if I go out there alone, a blind girl in the woods, being chased by Darkspawn… Look, I'm not asking you to abandon them. I'm asking you to take a chance on me."

Alistair stayed silent a moment, looking up above, and then down. The Grey Wardens were falling by the dozens, now completely surrounded. Any moment now, they would be at the tower…

"Duncan wouldn't have wanted me to die because I was being stubborn." He nodded, drawing his sword. "Come on, we have to go."

"Thank you." She sighed in relief, picking up her staff. "Come on, let's get going, now."

* * *

"For the love of the Maker!" Mara shouted over her shoulder at the pounding steel boots of the man behind her. "Alistair, don't stop running!"

"I'm trying!" He shouted back. He glanced over his shoulder in turn. "The Darkspawn aren't that fast! We can slow up a bit!" The Darkspawn were at the other end of the clearing behind them, and Mara was moving much faster than they were.

"I'm not taking that chance!" She shouted back. They had only just barely managed to carve their way out of the Tower of Ishal, there was on way she was going to slow until they were completely out of sight. Preferably halfway across the country. "We need to-"

She was cut off by blistering pain, falling to the ground and screaming. Something was caught around her leg, having stepped on something. She reached down to rip it off, but it was heavy and metal, and only dug further when she tried to move it, causing her to shriek out once more, balling her hand up and slamming it into the dirt.

"Alistair!" Her voice broke, hoarse and ragged. "What the hell just happened?"

"Oh no." He shook his head, his voice close to her head. "Looks like you stepped in a bear trap."

"What?" She gasped, wincing in pain. Aside from metal digging into her leg, she had twisted her foot badly, and dreaded to think of running with it. One thing at a time. "What the hell is it?"

Alistair shook his head, mind searching desperately for a description. "Hunter's trap." He explained. "Made of jagged metal, pressure sensitive. Stops anything smaller than a dragon." He began to touch at it, trying to pry it apart. "I think-"

He was cut off by her screaming as it fell once more into her leg, cutting deeper this time. "For the love of..." She sobbed, pounding her hand into the dirt. Her breath was ragged and uneven, filled with agony and pain. "Can you get it off?"

"I don't know!" He shook his head vehemently, looking around with desperation. Prying off it had only driven it further in the wound. There was a chain keeping it in the dirt, and a place for a release mechanism, but it looked as if it had been removed. Looking up, the Darkspawn were making headway in their direction.

"Fuck." She swore, sobbing in desperation, unable to so much as move her leg. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Don't panic." Alistair went over to where the release would be, stabbing his blade into it and trying to break it apart, to no avail. He swore under his breath, standing and thinking frantically. Out of desperation, he hacked at the chain, but the steel barely shifted under the force. He stood on it, trying to keep it stead, and hacked again, only to have his sword bounce helplessly off.

"What are you doing?" She shrieked, thrashing her leg in a desperate attempt to shake it off. "Alistair, can't you get it off?!"

"No!" He shouted back. "I-I don't know what to do!" He hacked at the chain again, accomplishing nothing. Looking up, the Darkspawn were almost upon them. "Damnit." Mara began casting spells in their direction, taking several down, but there was an entire horde. There was no way she could hold them off. His heart racing, pounding behind his ears, Alistair realized there was only one solution, short of just abandoning her to be eaten alive.

"Mara?" He whispered, barely able to say it. "If we want to get out of here… you're going to have to lose that leg."

"What?!" She shouted, losing concentration and losing the spell, sparks of the flame she had been summoning falling onto her hand and burning it. "No! You can't be serious! Try the trap again, anything, please!"

"Mara, listen to me!" He insisted. "The Darkspawn are almost here. We have a minute, _maybe_. Whatever this is made of, I can't break it. If I can't cut you out, you're going to die."

"Shit." She swore, her voice broken and sobbing. "Okay. Okay. I can do this. Just… be fast."

"I'm so sorry." Alistair stood. The Darkspawn were getting so close, would be on them in seconds. Taking a deep breath, he brought it down onto her.

There wasn't a word for the noise Mara made. It was like a feral, inhuman screech of agony, her whole body shaking and thrashing as the nerves in her leg were torn asunder. Alistair gasped, a pang of guilt for her pain, before pulling it back and bringing it down once more, this time only stopped by the bone that it bounced off of. One more strike and her leg would be off. He raised his sword once more.

As he did, a Darkspawn sprinter tackled him to the ground. He managed to bash it with the hilt of his sword, kicking it away before stabbing it through the skull, scrambling back to his feet. They had taken too long, now the horde was upon them. There wasn't enough for this to be the main body that had destroyed the Wardens, but more than enough to overwhelm a single man. He had no time to finish hacking off her leg, and couldn't bring himself to run.

To make it worse, Mara had passed out from shock, lying unconscious on the forest floor, bleeding to death. Alistair was surrounded, and alone.

A Darkspawn came lunging, vicious blade gouging at his cheek, and soon he was surrounded, fighting all those who had found him, bloody swords falling down all around him. His training and shield could only do somuch.

Another Darkspawn leapt at Alistair, this one managing to grasp his arms and seal them behind his back. Twisting his arms, he broke free from it and threw it off, driving his blade deep into it's skin and through it's heart. Footsteps thundered in the distance, what must have been thousands approaching.

Fire lanced through Alistair's back, having been struck with an arrow, and he fell to his knee, gasping and breathing in blood. He was a trained and experienced fighter, Duncan's instructions whispering in his ear, but no single man could withstand the onslaught he was faced with. Footsteps came from behind him, and he tried desperately to stand without any luck.

Then it stopped.


	8. From the Ashes

Mara lifted her head, groaning as she tried to stand, unable to find her legs. She tried to reach around, and realized she was dreaming.

" _I was wondering when I would see you again._ " A familiar voice came, and Mara gasped, smiling as she heard the voice of her friend, a familiar landmark in a world that had changed so much in the last few days.

"Faith?" Her uncertainty faded into relief. "Thank the Maker. I haven't seen you since I left the Circle. I was starting to think you wouldn't find me again."

" _I wouldn't do that to you_." An aura of calm and love came off of the spirit, and it relaxed Mara further. She was… serene, Faith's even and loving voice soothing her worries away. " _Life hasn't ever been kind to you, has it child?_ "

"Life is never kind or cruel." Mara replied back. Nothing in the Fade existed except though, and she imagined that she and Faith were sitting in across from one another on a rainy night. Rain struck the roof, gentle and constant, and a pleasant cool fell over her. "It's never easy for any of us, no matter who we are. I've just… adapted."

" _You're a remarkable girl, Mara._ " Mara imagined Faith was smiling, and the idea made her happy. " _Few could claim your struggles, and yet here you stand, serene and strong. I always knew you were unique._ "

"This is far from the worst of it." Mara smiled back in turn, imaging herself leaning back on an old rocking chair. "That day… the one that made you come and find me..."

" _Don't speak of it._ " Faith's voice had an edge of steel to it, something that killed the words in her mouth and pay attention. " _Please. Don't relive that memory. Focus on the now. Mara, you were born to do great things. I know this. Don't lose yourself in the past._ "

Mara paused a moment, thinking, and then nodded, pushing painful memories away to the back of her mind, where they belonged. "I… understand." She nodded again. "What… happened, in the forest?"

Faith didn't speak for a second, contemplating her words carefully. " _I… think you should discover that for yourself_." She spoke slowly, measuring every word as if they each contained a secret within them. " _A frustrating answer, I'm certain, but it's… a difficult question, I'm afraid._ "

"Why?"

" _It's… go back to the real world, and discover for yourself. Just know that you and Alistair still live._ " Mara felt the emotion of her shaking her head, reflecting that in her dream. " _But I'm afraid your leg is still badly damaged. Normal magic can't save it, I'm afraid. But I can help you._ "

"How?" She asked, scooting forward a little. "The last thing I remember is Alistair trying to cut it off. If it's gone..."

" _He didn't succeed._ " Faith explained. " _But I can save it. Or, more accurately, you can, with my help._ " Mara sat perfectly still, listening intently. " _I'm sure you've heard of the Blood Mages. Vile powers taught by demons. The mages use their power to summon the chaotic energy that the demon represents._ " Mara nodded emphatically. " _Those powers aren't limited to demons, thankfully. If you will allow me to teach you, you can learn how to summon the power of the Fade to_ _mend flesh and heal disease, beyond what any normal mage can do._ "

"Teach me." Mara asked, and Faith smiled at her.

* * *

Pain came before anything else. Throbbing, constant, _everywhere_. Heat bore down from above, sticky and consuming, and it was the only comfort as she awoke, numbing the pain with it's warmth.

That was, until she moved her leg.

She cried out as she did, her whole body racked with agony, blinding all of her senses so that it was the only thing that remained real. As it faded, blood was pounding behind her eyes and ears.

"Well, that didn't work." She groaned, sitting up, careful to not move her legs. Gingerly touching at the edges of the wound, she sighed in relief to find it had been bandaged, which allowed her to gently wrap her hand around the outside of the bandages without hurting herself any further.

 _Breathe_. She could hear Faith's voice in the back of her mind, closing her eyes and concentrating. _Calm, safe, happy. It's all okay, it's all going to be okay. Just concentrate, focus on the moment._

Without even meaning to, Mara's hands began to heal and mend the wound Alistair had made. Blood stopped flowing through for a moment, fractures in bone mending into solidity, flesh reborn from nothing but sheer force of will. Waves of benevolent healing and cleansing, virus' purged and replaced with health.

As the magic died, Mara gently peeled back the bandages to feel the skin. The knot of anxiety in her chest was replaced by relief as she felt it whole once more, perhaps even stronger than before.

" _Now you understand._ " Faith's voice came from a distance, everywhere and nowhere all at once. " _A broken body means nothing in the face of an iron will._ "

Rolling over, she stepped out of the bed, standing on it. It was odd, having healed so instantly instead of the slow crawl that things took to mend on their own.

"Thank you, Faith." She whispered with a smile, knowing that her friend was out there, listening, somewhere. "For… everything." A door opened behind her, booted footsteps following only to fall silent in their tracks, a gasp coming from whoever had entered.

"I… had not expected you to be up." It was a woman's voice, exotic and foreign. It seemed… vaguely familiar… but she couldn't place it. "Your leg was..."

"I'm a fast healer." Was all that Mara said, turning to face the woman. From the feel of it, she was still wearing her Warden uniform, so at least she was decent, though she didn't want to do any walking without her staff. "Who are you?"

"My name is Morrigan, lest you had forgotten." The woman, Morrigan, stepped towards Mara. "You were… not well when we met before."

"Excuse me?" Mara asked, raising an eyebrow at this strange woman. "You… saved me? From the Darkspawn?"

"Yes." Morrigan nodded. "Twice now. Once from the cave, and now again in the forest. You are welcome, by the way."

"There wasn't anyone else in the cave." Mara stepped back, unsure of what to think of this. "At least… not as far as I know, not beyond the Darkspawn."

"Yes," Morrigan sighed, the wood creaking under her feet as she leaned against the wall. "And who do you suppose dragged you from where you lay, into the path of the Grey Wardens, the only ones who could save you?"

"Oh." Mara blinked in spite of herself. She had simply assumed she had been in and out, wandering there while she was unconscious. Of course not. There was no such thing as a coincidence, was there? "Well, thank you, then… M-morrigan."

"But I am confused. That other Warden, the boy, said he tried to cut off your leg. 'Twas badly damaged, not even mother's magic could save it. How..."

"I'm an unusual girl. Let's just leave it at that." Mara went around the bed, touching her hand to the bed to find her way. "The last thing I remember was we were ambushed in the forest, I got my leg damaged… then I think I blacked out. What happened?"

Morrigan stayed silent a moment, Mara felt her eyes bearing down on her, being judged and analysed, until finally she cleared her throat, satisfied with the result. "Your friend was overwhelmed by Darkspawn. My mother saved you both just before the Darkspawn slew you both, and bandaged up your leg."

"She saved us?" Mara raised an eyebrow, taking a step towards the other woman. "Why? And… how? We were surrounded by Darkspawn."

"The why is that your fellow Grey Wardens were betrayed, correct?" Mara moved her head back. How could she have known that? "We watched the battle from our here, and watched as your reinforcements fled. We also know that the Grey Wardens are the only ones who can stop the Darkspawn, and even our seclusion in the forest won't save us from the Blight." She paused a moment, as if thinking, then continued. "And the how? She's an unusual woman, as you might say."

Mara chuckled and nodded. "Fair enough. I suppose it would be bad of me to question a gift, especially when that is my own life." She stepped forward, offering out a hand. "Well, thank you, Morrigan."

Morrigan was silent, and Mara's hand hung in empty silence. "Excuse me?" She said at last, and Mara tensed a moment.

"I… you said that you had saved me, taking me to the Wardens." Mara stuttered, blushing, now feeling completely foolish. "I… just meant to thank you for it."

"I did." Morrigan nodded, but stepped back. "You meant to thank me with your hand?"

"I… only wanted to shake your hand." Mara lowered her hand, realizing that she must have done something wrong, that Morrigan wasn't aware of a tradition, or that holding up a hand in such a manner meant something else out here. She shook her head. "Forget it. Just know that I'm grateful for your help. Could I… meet your mother? To thank her myself?"

"Of course." Morrigan nodded, stepping forward. "Her and your Warden comrade are just outside, through the door I came through." She took several steps, and then went back to Mara. "And here. Your staff. I take it from your blindfold that you cannot see, correct?"

"Correct." She nodded, taking the offered staff. "Thank you, once again." With it in hand once more she felt… safer. She had this staff for six years, and it had never led her astray once, allowing her to navigate and use magic in equal measures.

Stepping outside, Mara was grateful for the blindfold. Heat from sun above bore down, hard and heavy through the mists of the forest, cloaking the whole place in a heavy humidity, hot and wet at the same time. She was grateful she didn't have to see it with her eyes, as she could still see some light, and it irritated them, and the light always got the worst on days like these.

"See, young man?" A voice called. One she had never heard before, older and more mature, a hint of a rasp on it's undertone. Like all the other seer stories she had heard, of the old crones who lived alone, spinning prophecies. "You worry too much. Here is your Grey Warden friend, safe and sound." She laughed, sounding more like a cackle than anything else. "And walking just fine too! A remarkable young woman she is!"

She heard heavy steel footsteps, and a gasp that was unmistakably Alistair's. "Mara." He breathed, stepping towards her, as if he couldn't believe himself. Understandable, really, given the circumstances. "I… don't believe this. I… didn't think I would see you again. After… after you blanked out..." He gave a relieved sigh. "Just… thank the Maker."

"Likewise." Mara smiled, trying not to show how scared she was. "I… didn't think I would be waking up once I..." She shook her head, turning in the direction of the old woman's voice. "I'm guessing that you're Morrigan's mother?"

"Indeed I am." She laughed. "She wasted no time in talking your ear off about me, hm? Silly girl."

Mara shook her head. "No, I asked her who had saved us, to whom we owed our lives.  
Thank you so very much… I-I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"I never threw it." She waited a moment, as if to expect laughter, then contiuned. "I'm known by many times. Asha'bellanar, Witch of the Wilds… an old hag who talks too much." She laughed once more, and Mara decided that she very definitely didn't like that sound of her laughter. "Names are pretty, but useless. You can call me Flemeth."

"Flemeth?" Alistair asked, sounding surprised and apprehensive. " _The_ Flemeth, the one from the Orlesian story? We… all thought you were a myth."

"Evidently not." Flemeth shifted her feet to look at him. "And what if I am? Occasionally even myths wish only to settle down in the woods with their family."

"So long as those stories aren't about you eating Grey Wardens." Mara to joke, but nerves trembled inside of her. Something was… wrong about this place, something hanging over them like the humid mist in the air.

Flemeth laughed again, making Mara shiver just a little. "I like you!" She chuckled, turning back to Mara. "And rest assured, they aren't."

"Yeah, I… guess it doesn't matter." Alistair stepped towards Mara, putting a hand on her shoulder which she flinched at, old memories stirring up. "I'm just thankful you're alive." Mara stepped back, moving her shoulder so that his hand fell back down. He made a curious noise, but didn't say anything more.

"But what do we do now?" Mara asked. What could they do? They might be alive, for now, but the Grey Wardens had been destroyed, betrayed, the King was almost certainly dead… and a Darkspawn horde had been loosed on the world, if not an entire Blight.

"I thought it was the duty of the Grey Wardens to stop the blight?" Flemeth stepped towards them, and Mara could almost feel the smile on her face. "Or did that change when I wasn't watching?"

"Of course not!" Alistair retorted angrily, turning to face her off, almost in a stand-offish manner.

"But… there's only two of us." Mara's voice broke, cutting through the façade to make her sound as scared as she felt. "The Grey Wardens were annihilated during the battle, weren't they? Loghain and his men fled, and they were slaughtered without him."

"W-why would he do such a thing?" Alistair's voice was closer now, having turned around. His voice was muffled though, as if his head were in his hands. "I watched the whole time. The battle wasn't going well, but… we could have won with his men, surely."

"That is a good question." Flemeth nodded. "Perhaps the Blight scared him. Or perhaps this was always his plan. Sickness breeds shadows that lurk in hearts. But you will need help if you are to face this Loghain, and the Darkspawn."

"We should go to Redcliffe." Alistair spoke, lifting his head from his hands. "Arl Eamon… he raised me, and his men weren't able to make it to Ostagar. He still has his army, and I _know_ he'll help us."

"And what if he can't?" Mara felt bad for saying it, but desperation hung in the air, and her stomach hurt desperately. Her head was light, dizzy, her body swaying slightly. "Is there anyone else we can turn to?"

"Of course." Something heavy hit the ground, and she could hear Alistair rummaging through a bag of some kind. "Duncan sent me to an old Grey Warden outpost just before the battle, that's where I stumbled across you. I was to retrieve old treaties, promising support to the Grey Wardens." He stood up, having found what he looked for. "I found three. One from the City Elves of Denerim, one of the Dwarves of Orzammar, and one from the Circle of Magi." He turned to Mara. "We… we could go to these people, use these to get them to help us."

"I may be old," Flemeth said, and they looked to her. "But Dwarves, Mages, Elves, this Eamon… and who knows who else? Why, that sounds like an army to me."

"Can we do this?" Alistair turned to Mara again. "G-go to these places, raise an army?"

"We don't have much of a choice." Mara nodded, giving a weak smile. "Though I'll warn you that when you head to the Circle, you will have to go without me. Even if I might help you negotiate with them, I am _never_ going back there again, whatever it takes."

"I suppose that's fair." He nodded emphatically, but sounding mildly disappointed. "But, still… we have options, a future. If we fight, we resist… we could fight back. Against Loghain _and_ the Blight."

"So that's it then?" Flemeth smiled a little. "You're ready to go out into the world as Grey Wardens, ready for adventure?"

"We don't have much of a choice." Mara repeated, nodding at her and turning to the old woman. "Thank you, Flemeth. For… everything."

"I should thank you instead." Flemeth chuckled, stepping towards Mara. "Our seclusion will likely save us at first. But if the Darkspawn conquer Ferelden? Even the forest cannot hide us forever from those numbers. Now, as a gift, I have one thing left to offer you." She turned her head. "Morrigan! Get out here girl!"

A moment later, the door opened behind them, and boots stepped into the mud. "Lunch is nearly finished, mother." She answered curtly, with almost a… resentful, shackled tone to her voice. "Will our guests be staying?"

Flemeth shook her head. "No, they intend to outrace the Darkspawn. And they will be needing you."

"What?" All three of their voices joined into one at the question.

"You heard me." Flemeth folded her arms. "You've been aching to leave the Wilds for years, and here if your chance. Grey Wardens, you will need her to navigate the forest, lest you become lost in it's paths forever. Beyond that, I can assure you she will be… indispensable, in your journey."

"I don't know." Alistair's voice had a reluctant undertone to it that he made no effort in hiding. "I mean, outside of here, she's an illegal mage, an apostate."

"So am I." Mara pointed out. "I mean, I'm a Warden, but I'm not sure how much that will mean to any Templars we run across. And… with just the two of us, we aren't exactly at liberty to be choosing our allies right now." She wasn't exactly eager to just let this strange woman follow them, but they had saved her once, and there was… something about her. A wind that swept around Morrigan, marking her as different. Someone who would affect the days to come, for better or worse.

"She is a powerful mage, whose talents will be of great use to you, I'm sure." Flemeth stepped towards them. "If you must, consider it repayment for saving your lives."

"Alright, alright." Alistair raised his hands. "We'll certainly be needing help to get out of this forest, it's true."

"I'm so _glad_ to have your acceptance." Morrigan sighed sarcastically, but unslung her staff from her shoulder. "Very well, if this is what you want, mother. Don't forget the stew on the fire, I would _hate_ to come back to find our little shack in flames."

Flemeth scoffed. "More likely you'll come back to find this whole area swallowed by the Blight."

"I..." Morrigan stammered, rubbing her eyes. "I didn't mean it like that. I only-"

"I know." Flemeth smiled at her. "Do try to have fun, dear."

"Come on, then." Mara nodded, gripping at her staff, heat and destiny coming down from above. "No time like the present."


	9. Lothering

_Author's Note: So, this is going to be a bit depressing, so just skip to the actual story piece if you're not interested in myself._

 _I have been hospitalized today for withdrawals of medicine affecting serotonin levels. I... very nearly didn't survive. So, I want to put this out here in case I just up and disappear: Anything and everything I have ever written and put on this site is within the public domain, and it always has been. This applies even if I am actively writing. You can post and repost my stories however you like (Though I would appreciate credit for them, maybe a link to me), you can use my characters in any other story, write fan-fanfiction, whatever. I don't do this for the recognition or views or whatever, so feel free to do whatever makes you happy. :) Thank you for reading, and I apologize if I ever disappear and never finish a story that you liked._

 _Thanks for listening to that ramble, and enjoy the chapter. Has some badass Leliana in it._

* * *

"Leliana? Leliana?" The elderly woman snapped, bringing Leliana back to the real world, out of memories. "Have you been listening to me?"

Taking a deep and heavy breath, she shook her head. "No." She lay her head back against Chantry walls, losing herself in the rhythm of the crowds outside. "I'm sorry, Revered Mother. I… have a lot on my mind."

"You need to listen better." She chastised, wagging a finger. Leliana had never cared much for this revered mother in particular, but she wasn't exactly saviour material herself. "This world has only fallen so far into the grip of cruelty and vice due to our failings as people. Listen better, and you'll learn how to be a better woman."

"Revered Mother, with all due respect," Leliana opened her eyes, looking down a bit to see the old woman in robes too big for her skin. "I'm not much more than a hollow shell where a woman once stood. I think we ought to start teaching others, instead of wasting your time on me. I'm a lost cause."

The Revered Mother shook her head, leaning forward and clasping Leliana firmly on the shoulder so that her eyes focused in on her. "Leliana, listen to me. Whatever you've done, whoever you are… no one is without worth. You are loved, unconditionally."

Leliana met her her gaze, and nodded a moment, looking back up as the words took a hold, just a little wiser for having heard.

"Well, I think you would be interested in what I said." The Revered Mother continued as Leliana closed her eyes once more. "It was about ho-"

She never finished her sentence. Screaming broke out in the distance, and Leliana jumped to her feet immediately as they heard it. It was one voice, and yet more than that. Closer to a hundred, all joined in a horrified choir.

"What was that?!" The Revered Mother shouted over the noise, but Leliana had already bolted from the room, rushing out of the Chantry and into the streets. Frenzied and chaotic swarm of people were running as fast as they could, pushing and trampling in their terrified scramble. They were shouting a thousand things at once, but one word was prevalent through it all:

"Darkspawn."

The Templars of the Chantry pushed past Leliana, rooted in horror at the possibility of what that meant. They had all known that the King's Army and the Grey Wardens had joined forces at the ruins of Ostagar, miles to the south, to face down the Darkspawn horde. If they were here… there was only one possible conclusion…

They had lost.

At the edge of the village, she could see them even as people pushed past her. There they came, hundreds of vile, tainted creatures trampling the forest out of their way, improvised weaponry and armour sewn together. She could almost see the snarl on their monstrous faces, smell the blood and mud carrying down their lips…

Leliana trembled, folding her arms and biting her lip. Surely she should move, join the fleeing villagers… but she couldn't bring herself to move, to look away. Terror rolled up her back, making her shiver, grasping for support at the beam she stood next to. Old memories, flashes of a dead life… of _her…_

The Templars were butchered in short order, systematically. Of course. They were good men, but untrained for anything beyond petty criminals and runaway mages. Her heart ached for them, yet could not bring herself to move, her feet held to the ground by horror. Perhaps that was the worst fate she could suffer, being forced to watch as the world burned around her, staying alive long enough to watch as hope abandoned them.

But it never did. As the Templars fell, their only guardians tossed aside like playthings, when darkness consumed the world, stars shone through. A ball of fire came from the forest behind them, consuming the Darkspawn at the gate in a wave of ash and cinder. As it cleared, three figures stood in their place. Two of them wore the unmistakable garments of Grey Wardens, and the third wore wilder robes.

Hope, pure and simple. Inevitably skewed in favour of resistance, death replaced with a gleam of life, horror cast aside to create room for confidence.

Fear replaced with Faith.

Leliana could barely make out the Wardens from here, but one of them made her gasp. A young woman, not more than a teenager, with those unmistakable features… a wave of silky black hair cascading down her shoulders, pale skin that begged for the touch of sunlight, tall and elegant… it looked so much like… but it couldn't be. She was much too young, and Leliana could make out the faint shape of a piece of cloth over the woman's eyes… so alike, and yet so different at the same time. It was almost mocking, giving her such an imitation of her, showing a reflection of the woman who had destroyed her life… the eyes that had once loved her taken away forever.

"Leliana!" She was distantly aware of the words, echoing through her ear and out the other. She could do nothing but stand there, spellbound, watching as their saviours battled off the invading Darkspawn while the villagers fled.

A slap came across her face, and it was if she had been washed by a wave of water, blinking and looking around, feeling as if she had awoken. There stood the Revered Mother, jittering anxiously.

"For the love of-" The woman gasped, sighing in relief that she had brought Leliana back to reality. "Leliana, we need to be going _now_!"

Leliana thought a moment, and then shook her head. "I can't." She said simply, looking back to the battle. They were so impossibly outnumbered… but it was as if the Maker himself favoured the Wardens, as they fought beyond the limits of mortality to protect the village from the beasts. This was it, it had to be. What it all meant, where it all fell into place.

"What?!" She shrieked, stamping a foot. "Leliana, don't be stupid. Whoever these people are, they cannot hold the horde forever. What in the world does staying accomplish?! We have to be going now, or we'll never make it!"

"You do." Leliana nodded, gritting her teeth. She knew where she needed to be, where she belonged now. "This is where our paths diverge, holy Mother. Run, and may the Maker guide you." The Revered Mother looked around, mind racing but, realizing how short time was, pushed past Leliana and fleeing with the crowds.

Leliana, in turn, picked up a dropped Templar sword, and began her way to the battle.

* * *

"Mara, look out!" Alistair shouted, and she was already halfway through a roll, ducking under the blade of a Darkspawn and blasting it apart with her staff. There were too many of them, now. They had managed to hold the horde several minutes, praying it would be enough for the evacuation of the civilians, but now they were becoming surrounded. More footsteps of the monsters came from behind her, and she couldn't turn in time.

As it lifted it's weapon, however, a blade came piercing through it's chest, and the beast fell in a moment. Mara turned, confused. She had heard it felled by a blade, which would have meant Alistair, but there was… someone else, reaching out through the world of magic, that she could hear that heartbeat of. A woman, from what it felt like, with a powerful heart, cloaked in shadow but with a piece of light in the middle. She was… easy to hear, oddly enough. Most people she had to focus greatly to feel them even this close, but hearing this woman was easy, natural, like breathing.

"Who are you?" Alistair shouted, then ducked as if to avoid something, lashing out with his sword as more Darkspawn came. The woman ducked and lashed elegantly, her footing fast and practised. Mara almost hit her several times, her footsteps quick and lighter than anyone she had ever been around.

"I don't have time to tell you." Her voice was foreign, exquisite and fanciful as she shouted, jumping out of the way of Mara's magic, and cutting down more Darkspawn. "The people should be gone by now, we should get out of here!" Mara noticed that, oddly enough, that she sounded normal. Anyone else in battle tended to panic, it was normal enough, that the danger and fear of death would heighten the senses and force someone into hyperventilating and fits of terror. But her voice was level and had an odd calm to it, as if she had been through this sort of thing before.

Working together, Mara and Morrigan used their magic to bring up a roaring wall of fire, Alistair and the woman clearing out the few Darkspawn remaining inside of the walls. Then they turned, and ran as quickly as their feet would carry them.


	10. Old Memories

"I… I think we managed to outrun them." Alistair panted, doubling over in his plate armour to gasp for breath. Exhaustion, seeping through everyone's bones, tired eyes unable to stay open of their own volition any longer, instead needing concentrated effort to pry apart. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"I think so too." Mara gasped, falling to her knee as searing pain broke out through her chest, making it impossible to breathe. "I don't sense them anymore." She stood, closing her eyes and focusing, but there was nothing but them. "Where… where are we?"

"It looks to be some sort of abandoned camp site." Morrigan nodded, sitting on a tree stump. "There's three tents, they look to be in good enough condition." Something… didn't feel quite right, about this place. A heavy hole being drilled through her back by unseen eyes, but not... hostile ones. As if they had an audience, captive, watching with held breath as they waited to see what they would do next.

"It doesn't look like it's been abandoned very long." The woman spoke up, kicking at a campfire that still had dim embers in it. "This was only put out recently, and there's still some supplies here, like they left in a hurry. People fleeing from the Darkspawn, I would guess."

Mara sat down in the dirt, falling down onto her back. Dirty unclean, it felt as if she had been infected by some horrible disease, as if the filth in the air around here was rubbing off on her. Her breath was short and fast, a flaming pain in her lungs that made it damned near impossible to breathe.

A comfortable, almost healthy silence overtook the camp as they sat there. Mara nearly drifted off to sleep, tingling numbness in her fingers and toes, when Alistair spoke. "So… who are you, exactly?" He asked, and she lifted her head up a moment in confusion, until she realized who he was talking to.

"Me?" The woman spoke up, and Mara turned her head to her. "My name is Leliana, I am… was… a cloistered sister within the Chantry." There was a clearly resigned note to her voice, though Mara wasn't quite sure if it was real or only her imagination. It was as if every last word had been carefully analysed and weighed for it's purpose. "I… couldn't just stand by while you fought our battles for us."

"So I see." He nodded, Mara prying herself from the ground and propping herself up against another tree stump. "Where does a Chantry sister learn to fight like that?"

Leliana stayed silent a moment, thinking, then shook her head. "I had a life before I was a Sister, we all did. It was never the easiest life, and you learn a few things along the way."

"You walk differently in battle." Mara noted, looking over in Leliana's direction. "Softly, never laying your feet all the way down." It was odd to hear, as that just wasn't how people walked. Heavy, full, even at full running speed people used their whole foot. But, listening to her walk, it was as if she had come from a different world, almost.

"You… really notice things, don't you?" The statement had caught her off guard, but she quickly regained her grace. "Well... yes. It's an Orlesian way of walking, is all. I'm just… surprised you noticed."

"Blindness does things to you." Mara nodded. "But, in any case, I appreciate the help, sister. Just… please, do try to step a little further down, just so I don't hit you with a spell by accident."

Leliana chuckled a little, and nodded. "I will certainly try."

* * *

 _Cold… so terribly cold… Tired of being lost, of wasted breath… of being less than nothing…_

" _You will die alone." The voices call in the distance, making her feel weak in the knees. "This world is ours, and a blind child and a broken Warden cannot stop the darkness that is to come." Mara opened her mouth to shout out, to deny it and resist, but instead the world faded into another of her prophecies._

 _People are running, fleeing, frantic energy on the air. It's difficult to hear anything over the chaos, to make out any particular feeling when the world is consumed by all of them at once. Something… something is coming, like a thousand footsteps thundering into one voice. A calming hand comes up to touch my back, taking a deep breath as it begins…_

Mara awoke with a gasp, laying in one of the tents and shouting out. She was unfathomably hot as the shock of the vision wore off, sweating through her smallclothes, as if she had a terrible fever. She fell onto her back, wiping away the sweat and breathing deeply.

"Just a dream." She whispered, rolling onto her side, and throwing the blankets back. "Just a dream." But it wasn't, was it? A dream was never truly just a dream, not for her. Either it entailed being in the Fade, and confronting with Faith and other spirits, or it was one of her prophetic truths. Or both, on the worst of nights. The flap to her tent opened, and Mara sat up, covering herself with the blanket. "Um… hello?"

"Oh." It was Leliana, sounding embarrassed, and Mara smiled a little at it, blushing that she had been caught like this. "I… didn't mean to intrude, but… I was standing guard, and heard you shout, talking in your sleep. I thought I would come make sure everything's okay."

"Yeah." She nodded, still blushing a little as she sat up further. "I… just a bad dream, is all." She shook it off, reaching up to ensure her blindfold still sat on her eyes. She never took it off, and it was a relief that Leliana hadn't seen her eyes. "Is it my turn to stand guard?"

"No." Leliana knelt in front of the mage, sympathy emanating off of her voice. "I was just worried, is all. Are you alright?" Mara nodded mutely, staying silent. "Do you… want to talk about it?" She shook her head, and Leliana stayed silent a moment before nodding, and standing up to leave.

"Leliana?" She called, and she stopped in her tracks, turning back around. "Do… do you ever wonder if you're doing the right thing? If what you've chosen to do in your life has… has been for the best?"

"All of the time." Leliana nodded, sitting once more. "The things I've seen and done in my life… I can't imagine that it's been the best road I could have walked…" She paused a moment, contemplating, and shook her head. "But I can't imagine that you have to deal with that. You're a Grey Warden, you protect the people from the darkness."

Mara shook her head slowly, lost in the deep, murky pools of memory. "I… left the Circle, after something that happened to me. But… I don't know. If I had stayed, I would have been miserable, but… what if Duncan had sent a better Warden with Alistair, instead of me? Someone who could have stopped more Darkspawn? Someone who's not as useless as me?"

"I don't think you're useless." Leliana shook her head.

"I do." Trembling, quaking under the blanket. Mara couldn't stop herself from shaking, unable to put on a brave face any longer. "Leliana, I was never that good of a mage at the Circle in the first place, and now I'm the Warden that survived Ostagar? Me, the blind teenager..." She shook her head, burying her face in the blankets. "The Maker has a sick sense of humour, doesn't he?"

Aching, shameful… old memories swelling up. Leliana closed her eyes a moment, flashes of an old life rising to the surface. That was the way of the world, that those who didn't deserve to survive outlasted those who did. "I don't think so." She said at last, casting off the demons that hung over her. "I think that all things happen for a reason. No matter how painful, how disgraceful… this life, the way that the world works, is the way it's supposed to be."

"You've been through the ringer too, huh?" Mara turned her head a little to speak. How stupid and foolish she must look, falling apart like this in front of a stranger… but she was no hero, no saviour. "Survived things you shouldn't have? Made decisions that couldn't have been worse?"

"More than you could know." Leliana nodded, closing her eyes to blink back whatever might come clawing it's way back through her mind. "I… only joined the Chantry as a sister after I lost everything, and everyone, I had before."

"And you're still here?" Mara rolled over on her back and sitting up a little. "With us, fighting a Blight?" Leliana nodded, making a soft affirming noise. "It's… selfish of me, isn't it? To assume that my pain is more important than anyone else's? That my battles are more important because I'm in them?"

"That's part of being a person."

"I see." Mara nodded, thinking in contemplative silence, reflecting on dead memories. She shook her head, looking up at Leliana and smiling. "Thank you, sister. I… feel much better."

"Please," Leliana laughed a little, shaking her head. "Call me Leliana."

"Okay… Leliana." Mara smiled a little wider, never seeing the sparkle that it brought to Leliana's eyes. "And… thanks." She shook her head, still smiling. "I should be getting back to sleep, I think. Come get me when it's my turn to stand watch."

* * *

"Did you hear that?" Alistair perked up, breaking Mara from her half-asleep state, moving her head upward. She listened intently, focusing intently with her magic to feel anything in the woods. There was… Alistair beside her, Leliana and Morrigan in the camp behind them… a few small things in the forest underbush, likely nothing more than a few rats. Nothing major. Even anything she couldn't feel, Darkspawn weren't quiet by any stretch of the imagination.

"No." She shook her head at last, releasing the magic focus. "I don't sense anything out there, except a few small animals."

"Oh." Alistair sat back down and sighed. "Sorry, just… on edge." That was an understatement. Everything about him, from his voice, to his way of walking, had been at the peak of readiness ever since Ostagar. Not that she could blame him, she had been on edge too, but his seemed… excessive, as if he wasn't to permit himself to relax.

"Alistair, relax." She tried, sitting up a little further and looking over to him. "There's nothing out there. Darkspawn are neither quiet, nor hygienic in any way. I could hear or smell them a mile off."

"Right, right." He slouched a bit, sighing and trying his best to loosen up. "Just… my imagination I guess. Can't stop thinking about them." He looked over to her and smiled. At the very least he had her with him, having proven herself a worthy ally throughout the last few days. Painful as it had been, if she hadn't convinced him to run from the tower, he would have died along with the rest of them. Surely Duncan wouldn't have wanted him to die from his stupid stubbornness. "T-thank you." he stumbled with the words, and flinched inwardly. _Idiot_.

"For what?" Mara asked, raising an eyebrow. Again, there was something in his voice, just a little different, from normal. A tremble, a shiver. Only a little thing, but something was… off.

Alistair sighed, and shook it off, recovering quickly. "Just… for everything. For helping me at the tower, for being there when I needed you. You have the skills of an elite soldier, and you've saved me a dozen times over." So far, so good, and he smiled a little at how it had gone. "You're a good fighter, kept your cool when I couldn't." Good, good. "I mean, the way you disembowelled those Darkspawn was just… wow." _Idiot_.

"Erm, thank you." Mara's smile trembled just a little. There was something… implacable, dancing at the edge of his voice, that she couldn't place, as if she had heard it once before, from someone else…

Alistair looked away, chuckling to himself. "I'm much better with swords than words." He derided himself. "It's just… I'm thankful you're here."

Mara was infinitely grateful for her blindfold, as her eyes snapped open. She realized where she had heard that tone once before, deep in the Circle's storerooms… icy, paralysing terror, memories swimming to the forefront, a myriad of forcefully forgotten sensations… her chest got tight, cutting through her lungs, unable to breathe.

"I-I-I… I think I left my staff in my tent." She stammered, and ran off as fast as she could, ignoring the stare she got as she did.

Little did she know that Morrigan was watching in the distance, boiling in jealousy at what she had just witnessed.


	11. Starved for Help

"I am absolutely starving." Alistair complained again, plodding in his footsteps. Surely Redcliffe couldn't be much further, surely it was almost over. They had been walking for three days without food, and only water from streams they encountered on the way. They had been hoping to restock in Lothering, but after that had failed their supplies had dwindled within a day, and now they at a loss.

"We are _all_ hungry, Alistair." Morrigan snapped, her arms folded as she tried to mask the pain. Her stomach shook, swallowing itself under the threat of weakness and death. It didn't help that Alistair hadn't shut up the whole of the time. It wasn't that she didn't like the man, he seemed good and strong, but it was that he didn't use his strength. He instead fell prey to weakness and whining about his every problem, hoping like a child that problems would solve themselves.

"Se détendre!" Leliana held up her hands, and stepping between them. "We aren't far from Redcliffe castle now, and I'm sure they will have plenty for all of us. Right, Mara?" She asked, turning her head.

Mara was standing utterly still, a good distance behind them.

"Something's wrong." She gasped, fighting to stay on her feet. Pounding, beating, a drum at the edge of her mind, her breath was cut short as it began.

"Mara?" She heard a voice, indistinct, and she couldn't even tell who it belonged to as she fell to her knees. It was like a blinding flash for her senses, a ringing in her ears shaking her world. She couldn't feel her knees dug into the dirt, nor the wind around her.

" _And the world comes tumbling down_." A hiss rung past her ear, and she couldn't move, unable to breathe, her chest caught into a tightly wound knot that left her unable to breathe. " _How long did you think you and your Wardens could run_?" It was a voice that was vaguely familiar, but… implacable. It sounded like Faith, but different…

It struck her, and she fell unconscious, crashing into the dirt.

A stunned silence fell over the group as they watched Mara fall to her knees, mumbling incoherent words before falling down face-first.

Leliana was the first to recover, dashing over to Mara's side and kneeling by her, checking her neck. "She's alive." She gasped in relief, her heart beating just a little easier. "She's unconscious, I think. Still breathing."

"What in the world just happened?" Alistair asked, dumbfounded as he knelt by Leliana's side. "She was just fine, and then..." He shook his head. "We can't just leave her here. Come on, we're almost at Redcliffe, we can find a safe place for her, and look for help if she doesn't wake up."

Leliana nodded emphatically, and slung Mara over her shoulder.

* * *

Mara suddenly felt awareness flooding back, and desperately tried to scramble to her feet only a moment before realizing she was asleep, or at least in the Fade.

" _Welcome._ " That voice came again, the same one she had heard, it's spirit close. Scrambling, she mentally summoned the image of her and Faith's meeting place, home with a roaring fire keeping away the rainstorm outside. This was her safe place, this image of faux reality, and surely she could face anything here. " _I apologize for your… abrupt arrival, but we needed to talk_." Mara wasn't soon to forget this voice of this… thing. It was like sandpaper was being dragged across her skin, nails dragging across a stone wall. It felt as if this thing was… a singularity of everything wrong in the world, as if it had taken all that Mara idolized and perverted it beyond recognition.

"Whatever you're selling," Mara folded the arms she envisioned she had, shaping the reality of this place with her sheer willpower. "I'm not buying. Whatever you think you're going to do, forget about it."

" _I like your attitude_." It chuckled, and it felt… unpleasantly close to her, as if it had stepped close enough for her to feel it's breath, almost close enough to bring up old memories… memories of the Circle. " _Listen to me. I… find myself at a loss, with your arrival. I am here to present you… something of a business opportunity_."

Mara shook off the feeling of fear, and instead focused on the one thing she knew she would always have. Faith, strength to cling onto no matter what happened. She pushed it away, facing off against it. "Save your breath." She commanded, reminded herself that spirits and demons weren't the only ones who held sway within the Fade. "Or whatever it is that you breathe. I'm not interested."

" _Come now,_ " It soothed, trying to step closer only to find it held away by her will. " _This is a unique situation, wherein I am at a certain disadvantage. A mage of your capabilities? Could surely destroy me without a second thought. All I ask is that you listen. If you don't like what I offer, I could not possibly contain you, prevent you from leaving. But that would leave you quite the poor guest, no?_ "

Mara sighed, nodding a little. It was trying to flatter her, obviously, and that was information that she could use, a clue that gave credence to it's identity. "Go ahead." She folded her arms in her imagination. Whatever it said, she wasn't about to start a battle, lest she be taken by surprise, and if she listened she could find any information it let slip.

" _Thank you_." She felt an emotion through the Fade that was best described as a wicked smile, and her skin crawled as if a wave of dirt and insects had washed over her. " _Now, I am currently… conducting business, in Redcliffe. You and your companions' presence is… an inconvenience. Now, I had considered killing you, but… you are a Spirit Healer, yes? A powerful mage, here in the Fade, as well as in your world. Now, I have much power at my disposal. Not as much as you, mind you, but still… I know some things, things that could help you fight off the Darkspawn._ "

"Make your point." She insisted. She didn't know the term, Spirit Healer, but it… sounded right, like it described what Faith had taught her, before. That had saved her leg. The information made her skin grow more uncomfortable, a whisper in the back of her mind that she was making a mistake, a twitch in her eye.

" _Simply put, I can give you what you need. You name your price, and it shall be granted. In exchange, you and your companions leave Redcliffe, never to return. Whatever you came to find, you shall seek it elsewhere_."

"I can't do that." She shook her head, reality and fantasy blending into one coherent existence. "We came to Redcliffe to seek out Arl Eamon and his army, and I shall not leave until we have them." A wave of relief washed over her as she spoke. Those were her words, definitively, not those of some demon. Coherence, intelligence, willpower… she was able to stand alone against it, and whatever intent it had.

" _Why settle for an army of mortal men_?" It asked, trying to step close once again to find the same result. " _What I am doing will give me… influence, here in the Fade. I could agree to come to your aid instead of Eamon. I would have an army of undead, of spirits, of ancient, forgotten gods themselves! What are a few soldiers in the face of such potential. I offer this, this unlimited potential to you, free of charge. All you need do is not do what you and your companions angle to do._ "

"You offer it because you are afraid." She countered coldly. She could hear it in it's voice, feel it's spirit tremble and shake itself ever so slightly, quivering, silently begging.

" _Yes, of course_." It's voice grew lighter, relieved, as if she had grasped it's point. " _Of a mage like you? There is little doubt I should be petrified of you, and your power. But there are things that I, as a resident of the Fade, can accomplish that is beyond even your prowess, simply because you inhabit a different world. I am offering to… partner with you. I ask a small favour now, and when you face your Darkspawn, I return it with interest._ "

"If what you say is true..." Mara's voice was soft, cold and thoughtful, every letter thought out as it if it could cause her death. Because it could, and likely would. "And ignoring any possible moral issues that would arise from this deal… and I grant you this… impossible power, then you become more powerful than me, and your reason for having spared me is rendered moot, and I have no reason to trust you. If what you say is untrue, then I have no reason to help you."

" _You are a clever one_." It chuckled. A moment later it brought mana forward, but not before Mara smashed it with a wave of her own power, washing it away. She smiled a little to herself. She didn't relish fighting in any way, but it felt good to stand up for herself, to cut down upon those who tried to hurt her.

But now she stood here, trapped in the Fade, unable to awaken.


	12. Redcliffe

"Halt!" A voice from the castle called as they stepped across the stone aqueduct that had been repurposed as a bridge to the fortress ahead. A massive gate impeded their progress, a courtyard visible through the gaps in it's steel. "No one gets into the castle, Arlessa's orders. You get in, you were invited, and I know you weren't. So shove off!" The man who had shouted stood at the top of the battlements, crossbow in hand.

Silence hung, and Alistair looked back to his companions. Mara was hurt, badly, and they desperately needed help for her. On the other hand, a bolt through the chest wouldn't do anything to help. What could he say?

"We are Grey Wardens." Leliana stepped up, shouting back up at the man. "We need shelter, and supplies. We have signed treaties of support from the Arl, let us in!" She gritted her teeth. It was a lie, but she couldn't just let Mara die in her sleep. Worry, anxiety, burning arms… her heart beat as she thought of losing yet another kind hearted soul, of leaving even one more body in her wake… no. She would live.

"I don't have to do shite for you, Orlesian!" He sneered back, waving off. "I don't care if you've got papers saying your the empress of Orlais, you's ain't getting in! Now slag off before I cut you down!"

Leliana glanced sideways at Alistair. They couldn't force their way in, could they? Even if they could somehow defeat the guards, they couldn't get past the gate. And even if they could, they couldn't make anyone help her.

"Wait!" Alistair stepped closer, being forced to move Mara slightly, who he had begun carrying. He rapped his free hand on his shield handle, shifting Mara's form to his side. "I… I'm Arl Eamon's son. Please, we're desperately low on supplies, and won't last a week. You'll be the one that has to explain to him why his son died on the doorstep while you were on watch!"

The man didn't speak, and a moment later slunk away into the tower beside him, motioning over another guard, and they could make out sounds of them talking, but no words. Leliana looked around nervously, clutching at the bow she had scavenged from a destroyed caravan. She had a bow and training, and armour she had found alongside it. Alistair had his shield and Morrigan had magic. But still she didn't like their chances. The shot to hit the guard wouldn't be hard, if a little high, with the wind being utterly still. But they were exposed, and wouldn't be able to defeat more than one or two.

Then he returned, motioning them forward as the gate began to open. "Alright, I'm gonna let you go talk to Isolde, Eamon's wife. If she wants to honour whatever agreement you lot got, that's her call. If she tosses you out, you leave or you die. Understood?"

"Understood." Alistair breathed a sigh of relief, hoisting Mara up a little. "Thank the Maker." He whispered, and Leliana nodded in turn, taking another of Mara's shoulders to share the weight as they went into the courtyard. It wasn't far, but every step was heavy, weighted as anxiety took them. What if Isolde turned them away? What if no one could help Mara? What if-

"Stop shaking." Morrigan hissed at him, nudging him in the side. "Confidence. Breathe, you stupid man." That was his real problem, that he allowed his fears to define him, which was one of the biggest weaknesses she had been taught to fear.

"What do you care?" Alistair hissed back, a knot in his chest. He hadn't seen Isolde in over a decade, and their last meeting had been… less than friendly. He would be surprised if she didn't throw them out at the sight of him, but they desperately needed aid. _She_ desperately needed aid.

"I care because we are surrounded." It was true, dozens watched from the shadows as they ascended the stairs to the main hall. "Confidence looks better on a man than terror, and if we are putting you in the negotiations, I would rather _not_ be shot with a crossbow."

The main hallway was massive, somehow even more so than when Alistair last remembered. Fires blazed in the alcoves, and they stood there, ants caught against a towering giant.

"Alistair?" An amazed Orlesian voice came from the stairs, and he turned to face her down, swallowing hard. There she stood, a neatly kept bun of orange hair, a delicate and pale face hidden behind a shocked hand held in front of her mouth. "Is… is that? Maker's breath, it's been years!"

"It's me." He confirmed, nodding repeatedly. Heart pounding like a bell, thoughts racing, old memories of childhood arising once more. What was he to do? To say? The woman who had treated him so cruelly as a child, but was also his adoptive mother. "I… know we didn't part on the best of terms, but please, we have an emergency. My friend is dying, and we need to talk to Eamon, desperately."

"What happened to her?" Isolde stepped down the rest of the stairs, approaching them and feeling Mara's forehead. "Goodness, she's burning up."

"I don't know what happened." He admitted, biting his lip to the point of almost being able to taste the blood that raced underneath. "She just… collapsed. We were hoping you had a healer or… someone, anyone that could do anything for her."

Isolde thought a long moment, Alistair's breath held so long he almost joined Mara in unconsciousness, until she spoke at last. "Of course we can help your friend." She nodded slowly, taking her from their arms. "We have healers here, I will have one of the soldiers carry her upstairs to them." She motioned at one of the guards, handing her off and whispering instructions in his ear before motioning him up the stairs. "But… I have some unfortunate news, I'm afraid."

"What is it?" He stepped back, eyeing her suspiciously. He didn't know what to make of her, not anymore. It had been so long, and she seemed… different, somehow, but that was likely the change that over a decade of time brought.

"I'm… afraid that Eamon is unavailable." She shook her head, putting a hand on his shoulder, not wanting to look him in the eye. "Alistair… Eamon has become very sick. He has fallen asleep, and has not awoken, just sleeps."

"He's dead?" Morrigan scoffed, looking away. "Grand, we wasted so much time for nothing, and we've no supplies to move along."

"Wait!" Isolde cried out, removing a hand from Alistiar's shoulder and flailing them desperately. "He's not dead, I told the truth. He sleeps, constantly. He breathes, his eyes flutter, he even rolls around on occasion. He simply never opens his eyes, like your friend."

"Do you think the same thing might be affecting both of them?" Alistair asked, and she nodded. "Maker's breath. Do you have any idea on how to help them?"

"I do." She nodded, then looking out the window at the sun shining outside. "But I would like to refrain for the moment. I would like to see if our healers make any progress with your friend before we jump to any conclusions, she may hold more insight if she awakens. If not, we can pool our ideas later." She bit her lip, and nodded. "Well, you three look absolutely famished. How about you stay for dinner with us? You can sleep in the guest wing, and if there has been no progress with your friend, then we shall think what we will do."

"We would love dinner." Alistair admitted, nodding more than he should have. His stomach rumbled in acknowledgement, as if wanting to have it's turn speaking. "We've been out of food for days now."

"Then we would be honoured." She smiled at him for the first time, and it finally put him at ease. The difference he had noticed must have just been the time since he had left, and she seemed… calmer, wiser now. They both must have matured. "I… hope none of you have an aversion to eating meat. It's all we have."

"What?" Leliana raised a suspicious eyebrow at that. "This place is a fortress. You have dozens of people here. Why do you only have meat?" That seemed… odd. From her experience, nobility living in castles tended to live in extravagance, wine and chocolate flowing free. Indulgence, luxury. Was this a Ferelden thing?

Isolde paused a moment, thinking before nodding. "Oh, of course. You see, we've kept the castle sealed, the Darkspawn have been attacking at night. Our supplies of other food only lasts a few days, so we have couriers that bring food every day, but without them all the food has gone. But, thankfully, we still have reserves of meat to feed us for months, at least. It… was always Eamon's favourite."

"The Darkspawn are this far north?" Alistair's jaw dropped in shock. How could they have gotten this far? They were all at Ostagar? At best, a few stragglers could have slipped past, missing the main horde. Enough to threaten the castle? That seemed… impossible.

"We live in grim times." She nodded sadly, then shook her head. "Oh, but now's not a time to be dwelling on such things. Come, I'll have our chefs season it special for you and your friends."


	13. Dinner

Something in the distance screamed.

Mara's spirit nearly faltered as she felt it. It was a noise beyond this world, or perhaps of the one she belonged in instead of the one she stood in. A great shout of pain that rippled throughout all that surrounded her, and in her perception she fell to her knees, grasping at her head as the agony carried all throughout the world.

What could have happened to cause such suffering? What insanity could have driven it throughout the spirit world? She could only remember feeling such pain once before, when… when…

" _Mara_." It was Faith, ans Mara gasped, feeling her standing by, amazed that she hadn't heard her approach. It must have been the torment that she had felt, masking all other senses in it's blinding rage. " _Thank goodness, I couldn't find you. I was worried I had lost you._ "

Mara shook her head emphatically. There was something… off about Faith. There was a frantic, mad tone to her voice It could easily be passed off on the sheer seriousness of the situation, but her spirit also… felt different, polluted.

"No, I… I'm okay." She nodded, standing and smiling weakly. "I was attacked by some sort of demon, but… I fought him off." She shook her head, knees trembling. "What… what was that sound? That pain that I heard?"

" _I do not know._ " Faith shook her head. " _I spent most of my energy finding you. All I know is… something terrible is happening, in your world. I've been watching you as best as I could, and from what I can tell, you and your fellow companions are in danger. I… came to rescue you._ "

"Thank you." Mara sighed in relief, knowing that if Faith could find her like this, then she could find her anywhere, that she would eternally have someone watching over her. "You don't know what's happening?" She felt Faith shake her head, and nodded. "Okay. Do you have any way I can get out of here? I've been trying to use my magic, but something about that demon is keeping me here."

Faith hesitated a moment, shuffling herself nervously before nodding. " _I… I believe so. It won't be easy, but you need to return to your own life. You are unique, and the world needs you._ "

"Why did you hesitate?" Mara raised an eyebrow. Something was… off, about this. As if the whole aura of this place was frozen over with corruption. "What's going on?"

" _I love you._ " Was all that Faith said, and then a wave of magic washed over Mara, the world fading away.

Little did she know, Pride watched in the distance, smiling to itself. She would run, today, live again. But all had a breaking point, and it would merely take observation to find hers, and use it to corrupt her.

* * *

"Oh, Maker." Alistair groaned, leaning back in his chair. The scent of the seasoned meat roasting in the kitchens carrying through the air down to their dining room. "That smells so good. I can't stop thinking about it."

"We're all hungry, Alistair." Morrigan sighed, the words feeling numb and useless, having been repeated so many times. "The only difference is that even a dog wouldn't complain as much as you."

Leliana looked over her shoulder for what must have been the thousandth time since Isolde had disappeared into the kitchens. She hadn't been gone long, but Leliana had an… uncanny feeling of being watched, sized up, like she was a cat with string dangled in front of her, dangling from a precipice she couldn't see.

"Leliana?" Alistair asked, noticing her actions, and she turned back around. "Is everything alright?" She nodded solemnly, remaining mute. "Are… you sure? You seem… tense."

"I'm fine." She brushed it off, looking back at the table.

"You just-"

"I said I'm fine." She repeated looking up at him. "Really. Just been a long few days, that's all."

Alistair watched her a moment, then nodded, looking back away. "So, I don't get you Morrigan. What's your deal? What in the world have I done to deserve the third degree from you all the time?"

"How about that you are a child?" She asked, rolling her eyes and leaning back in her chair. "You seem a strong enough man, and yet you squander it whining and complaining, wallowing in your own misery over time gone by. I simply expected more of the Grey Wardens than that."

"And maybe you should stop acting so much like a child too!" Alistair spat at her, half standing in his chair. "You know, you act all high and mighty, but-"

"For the love of-" Leliana muttered under her breath, and stood up, slamming her hands into the table. "Both of you, stop! Might I remind you that outside of here, the Darkspawn are destroying the world? That Mara sits upstairs, on the edge of death? And here you are, the both of you, sitting in a castle with a hot meal on it's way, and you tear each other apart like school children!"

The room was silent for a moment, only the sound of the fire crackling in the background, before Alistair sat back down. "Forget it." He shook his head, looking away. Leliana sighed and sat back down, folding her hands.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head sadly, even though she wasn't really. "Just… nerves, and I haven't eaten anything in days." In truth, she was also scared. Of these people, and for Mara. From what she had seen, Alistair preferred to follow rather than lead and, for all the pretense she gave, Morrigan had much to learn. Somehow, the blind teenager had become the one capable of making hard decisions at a moment's notice. Leliana ponded on it briefly, but cast away the thought. Now wasn't the time to be worrying, Isolde's healers were taking care of her.

Down came Isolde, soldiers behind her carrying four steaming plates of food, who placed them in front of the party before leaving.

"I'm so terribly sorry for the wait." Isolde apologized, sitting at the table with them. "We had to get it fresh for you."

"Fresh?" Leliana raised an eyebrow. "From where? I thought you had it in storerooms?"

"Oh..." Isolde smiled and shook her head. "Yes, yes, of course. I meant we had to cook it fresh for you. No leftovers for guests, no, no, no. That's just improper."

Leliana sniffed it suspiciously. It smelled good, Maker but it did, and starvation almost overwhelmed her premonition. And yet… something was off. Just the slightest thing, barely there, but she had long ago learned to trust herself on these things. Her instincts were all she had in times like these.

"What sort of animal is this?" She asked Isolde, and everyone stopped their knives mid-cut to look at her. "It doesn't look like lamb, and doesn't smell like pork."

"Um..." Isolde bit her lip, thinking. "I don't know, exactly. I could probably go find out for you, after dinner. We keep so much in storage, you would have to ask the cooks."

Leliana looked back down, not comforted at all by that. This wasn't like anything she had ever seen, even back in Orlais, and something was wrong.

"Lighten up, Leliana." Alistair smiled, at her, and she looked up a moment later. He looked to Isolde, shaking his head. "Don't mind her, we're all a bit on edge. Say, is Connor still here? Is he going to be eating with us?"

Again Isolde thought before speaking, and nodded. "He's in his room right now. He hasn't been feeling well, so he's probably gone off to bed."

Alistair nodded, then began cutting his food once more. Leliana swallowed hard, looking down. "Well." She spoke up, and all eyes turned back to her once more. "I… feel improper eating such a lovely meal without washing up first." She stammered, standing.

"Oh yes." Isolde smiled at her, tapping a foot nervously. "Upstairs, third door on your left. Please don't go anywhere else up there, please. The rest of the rooms are bedrooms, and I'd hate for you to wake anyone."


	14. Possessed

The first thing that came back to Mara was pain. She could barely feel her fingers twitch as leaking water dripped from the ceiling, could barely feel a different, sticky liquid on the underside of her hand.

Then horror. She stood quickly, and her stomach dropped in horror as she realized she had stepped on something soft and malleable, reaching down, she immediately retched as she realized it was raw meat, without the skin on it.

Stepping back, she slipped on something wet and stick, and fell back onto the ground, knocking something over in the process, a moment later having it crash down onto her head.

"What in the world was that?" It was Leliana's voice, through a wall, and Mara stood up, groaning under the weight.

"Leliana?!" She shouted.

"Mara?" Leliana sounded surprised, her voice muffled by a wall. "Where are you?"

"I don't know!" She shouted, feeling against the wall. There was a doorknob, but when she pushed, it stuck fast. "I… I'm stuck somewhere, the door is stuck. There's… something dead in here, skinned for meat!"

"Maker's breath." Leliana bit her lip. The noise was coming from the wall next to her. "Okay, stay right there. I'll see if I can find a way to you."

Mara sat there, propped against the wall, and it felt like an eternity. Her breath caught short as she sat there, focusing intently. There was something wrong about this place. She couldn't sense anything beyond this room, and there was only pain in here.

Finally, she could hear something heavy being moved slowly, and then a door opened in front of her.

"Maker's breath!" Leliana shrieked in horror. "This… you're..." She shook her head. " _This_ is what Isolde tried to feed us?!"

"I-" Mara began, but Leliana took her hand.

"Come on!" She insisted, sprinting back to the dining hall, dragging Mara by the hand. "Alistair and Morrigan are going to eat that! We have to warn them!" Mara found herself blindly following, unable to see where Leliana was headed, putting her trust in her.

Leliana neglected to tell her of the stairs in front of them, and Mara tripped when she didn't find them, sending the both of them tumbling down.

"Mara?!" Alistair stood from the table, Morrigan beside him. "Thank the Maker you're alright, I-"

"Don't eat dinner!" Leliana shrieked, scrambling to her feet.

"What?!" He asked, stepping away and helping Mara stand. "What's going on?" Morrigan stood as well, eyeing Isolde suspiciously.

"Oh, I..." Isolde began, backing away.

"Don't you start!" Leliana approached her, pulling a silver knife from the table. "I found her in a locked room behind a bookcase! Just _what_ were you intending to do?!"

Isolde took another step back, and Leliana threw her knife, impaling the arlessa through the shin and taking her to the ground.

"Maker's breath." Alistair's eyes widened, but did nothing more.

"Okay!" Isolde insisted as Leliana approached. "Listen, I…" She collapsed. "Oh Maker." She whispered, shaking her head.

"What exactly is going on?" Alistair asked, approaching the arlessa. Morrigan backed away, searching for their weapons where they had seen the guards take them away. "Isolde, what have you done?"

"What was necessary." She stood, and steadied herself. "Alistair, we found out that Connor… he's a mage."

"What?" Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Connor? I never would have thought it." He shook it off, staring her down. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"He… started to act strangely." She admitted, backing away only to run into a wall. "Just him learning his magic, you understand. I sealed off the castle from the outside world, so that the Templars couldn't find us." In spite of the situation, Mara couldn't help herself from feeling sorry for the woman in front of them. Her voice was hysterical, desperate for a way out, any way out. She was a hurt mother who had been pushed against a wall.

"Is he the reason Eamon is sick?!" Alistair asked, the situation dawning on him. He didn't have his sword anymore, but still… he was armoured, and the gauntlets could surely protect him if anyone came to Isolde's defence. "Isolde, what exactly is happening?!"

"No!" Isolde shook her head, beginning to sob quietly. "No, he couldn't have! Connor loves his father, he wouldn't hurt a fly!"

"Alistair." Mara said quietly, stepping to his side. "Listen, when I… fell unconscious, I was attacked by a demon in my dreams, said us being here was interfering with something. If Connor, a brand new mage with no training whatsoever, came into contact with it..."

"No!" Isolde shouted, jumping forward at them. "You can't be thinking that! Connor's fine, he's just figuring himself out, I promise!"

"It makes sense." Alistair agreed, dread crawling up his skin. "I don't like it, but… we should make sure, go check up on him ourselves."

"What in the world were you trying to feed us?!" Leliana shouted at her. "When I found Mara, she was trapped in a room full of..." She shook her head. "I don't even want to think about it."

"I needed to feed my son!" She protested weakly, slumping her shoulders and looking down. "I… had our soldiers do supply runs, but once the Darkspawn began moving about, it became too dangerous. What food we didn't eat spoiled quickly, and Connor was starving to death. O-o-our servants were peasants and slaves, nothing compared to us, and our soldiers pledged their lives to protect us, no matter what."

"You ate them?!" Alistair shrieked, stepping back in horror. "And that means… what you gave us was… we ate..." He doubled over and retched onto his armour.

"That's what I thought." Leliana whispered in horror, looking away. "Maker preserve us. She meant to do that to Mara too, why else would she be trapped in the room with the rest of them?"

"Please don't hurt my son." Isolde was on her knees now, begging. "I know how it must seem, the things I've done… but please. He means the world to me, and to lose him..." She shook her head. "You can leave, you can hurt me, anything but hurt him."

"We have to act." Alistair said, standing up once more and wiping himself down. "Come on, I-"

"Going somewhere?" It was a boy's voice, but darker and sounded it was as if his voice had been repeated three times by someone else. They all turned around, and their hearts fell. What the others saw was Connor standing there, an eerie smile on his face as he faced them down. Mara, on the other hand, felt the same demon standing there as she had fought in the Fade.

"That's the demon." She hissed, standing up and readying herself. "The one that attacked me."

"Connor!" Isolde smiled, taking shaking steps forward until she reached the table, leaning on it. "We have guests, little sweetheart. They were just getting ready to leave, just here to talk about our Darkspawn problems, you know, they've been-"

"Shut. Up." He insisted, and she fell silent. "I know exactly who they are. The mage should have died in the Fade, and her _friends_. I wish we could have eaten them, but I suppose they'll simply have to waste." Having stepped to the side, Leliana tried to throw her knife, but was stepped by a wave of magic that caught them by surprise, pushing them all to the ground, slamming into the wall. "Pride has taught me more than your Circle could ever do, and I-"

No demon could have told him what was to come next. Morrigan, having slipped away, stepped from the shadows and beat the boy over the head with her staff. Falling to the ground, Connor tried to move away before being struck again, falling unconscious.

"Morrigan!" Alistair smiled, leaning his head back into the wall once more. "Thank the Maker."

"I leave for all of five minutes..." She clicked her tongue, but smiled, laying their weapons onto the table. "Well, at least one of us is taking action." She looked down, scuffing her boot at him. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know." Alistair admitted, helping Mara to her feet before moving over with them. "From what I learned as a Templar, I-"

"You were a Templar?!" Mara shouted, her voice louder than it should have been, knowing how close she had been to one of _them_. "When we you going to tell me that!"

"I… don't know." He said, eyeing her at the odd reaction. Surely she harboured resentment towards Templars after being a Mage of the Circle, but they were protectors, guardians. "I didn't think it mattered."

Mara sighed, and stepped away from him. "Never the mind." She shook her head. "Let's just deal with this, here and now."

Alistair stared at her a moment longer before dismissing the thought, and turning back to the situation at hand. "It's just that demon possessions tend to be a … permanent thing, y'know? I don't think we can do much for him."

"What are you suggesting?" Isolde asked suspiciously, turning to face them.

"Magic could help." Morrigan shrugged. "Even if your Templars don't wish to acknowledge that potential."

"That's true," Mara chimed in, biting down feelings of resentment and anger. Horror, residual memories floating back up… "But there's just you and me here, Morrigan. It'd take a _lot_ more power than what we have between us. We'd either need blood magic and a _lot_ of blood, or a lot more mages."

"We could go to the Circle?" Alistair suggested. "We need to go there anyway to ask for help from them, we could bring back the mages with us."

"And just leave him here?" Leliana shook her head in disbelief. "Alistair, we can't just leave him like this. When he awakens, he might kill everyone in the castle! Connor might be a sweet boy, but I've seen people who have been possessed… they're demons, not people."

"I agree." Mara nodded sadly. "We need to do something before he wakes up, and without any help..." She looked away, shaking her head. "I hate to think of it, but… Connor is suffering."

"You can't be suggesting that!" Isolde shrieked, standing Mara down. She looked hysterical, her makeup having run down her face, her eyes red and bleary as she tried to comprehend the situation. Mara's heart ached for her, feeling every last piece of her grief and agony, unable to help her. "I won't let you!"

"Isolde." Alistair put a hand on her shoulder, gently comforting her. "I know you love him, I do too. But this… we can't let more people suffer because of him. He wouldn't have wanted that. This isn't him, and you know that, even if you don't want to acknowledge that."

"I can't." Isolde shook her head, sobbing, putting her head on Alistair's shoulder. "I can't, I can't…"

"I'll do it." Mara said darkly, lifting her head. "Leliana, get me a knife." Leliana nodded, handing it over. "Alistair, get Isolde away. She shouldn't have to watch this." Alistair nodded, and began to move her away as Mara approached the boy.

But Isolde pushed him away. "Wait!" She shouted at Mara, who turned to face her. "I… I'll do it." She clenched a fist, nodding as she steadied herself. "I'll do it."

"No one's going to ask you to do that." Mara shook her head. "You should leave the room. A mother should have to watch her son… suffer, like he is."

"No." She shook her head. "I… caused all of this. I never sent Connor to the Circle, because I didn't want to lose him. And now I've lost him forever. If there's any remnant of my son in there…" She looked down, gritting her teeth. "I need to be there for him, make sure that he's safe and comfortable before he… before I..." She shook her head. "I need to do this." Mara nodded, and handed over the knife to her.

Taking a deep, sighing breath, Isolde knelt next to her son. "Connor?" She asked, but he didn't stir. "I-i-if you can hear me, I'm sure you're very scared, and hurt, but mommy's here. I'm going to take care of you, I promise." Taking a moment to work up her courage, Isolde placed the knife right over his little heart, crying as she felt it beat. "It's all going to be over soon, baby, I promise. It'll all be okay."

Taking a second, frozen in horror as silence filled the air. Then she pushed forward, and he stopped breathing. Isolde collapsed, her heart and soul breaking as her son died in her arms.

* * *

From the Fade, Pride smiled. Such a small and fragile thing was never meant to hold one such as him. Only a small fraction of it's power had been given to him, and it had nearly overwhelmed the child. But he had served his purpose, and now Pride turned it's gaze to another proper host. Not the other woman, the one of more than one form. She was much too wild, defiant, not to mention never quite powerful enough to hold her. But the other one, the blind seeress… she would do well.

And it would only be a matter of time before he found her weakness.


	15. Breaking of the Party

_Author's Note: So, I had a catastrophic Hard Drive crash this morning, and lost absolutely everything, including my stories and the board games I made that I loved so much, so I apologize for the lack of quality in this chapter, did it all in an hour. I'll try and keep updates regular still, but all my banked chapters are gone, so it might get slower.  
_

* * *

"He's up here." Isolde led them up the stairs, pointing, shaking, at the door. She had been beside herself in grief, but had insisted that she lead them to Eamon, that the brave Wardens might still save one of her loved ones. Her husband, her dearest one, that he might still recover. "I… please, please help him. I can't… can't lose him too."

"Of course." Mara smiled, comfortingly, putting a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Please, go get some rest. You've… been through so very much, we can take care of this." She hadn't any schema for what Isolde must be enduring at the moment, but more than enough empathy. She had just lost her son, her own child, and now faced losing her husband as well.

Isolde nodded, but put a hand on Mara's shoulder as she turned to the room. "Wait." She whispered, and they turned back. "I… we had an idea for helping him. I-I sent out our knights to search for the Ashes of Andraste, the Urn of Sacred Ashes. None of them returned, but… I think it's his only hope. If you can't help him as you are, I… please try looking for them. I know they can help him, I know it, but… I don't know where my knights are now. I had to stay here with Connor." Mara nodded, and Isolde left before the Wardens could see any more of her tears, leaving them to save Eamon.

"Ashes of Andraste?" Morrigan asked as they entered. "What, pray tell, is that. More Chantry droll?"

"Yes." Mara sighed, ignoring the insult to her god. For all that Morrigan was, she was not a considerate woman. "Chantry lore says that the Andraste was cremated, as per our traditions, and her ashes were hidden somewhere within the Ferelden side of the Frostback Mountains. They're said to have miraculous healing powers, up to the point of being able to raise the dead."

Her staff felt the edge of something, and she reached down. Sure enough, there was a person laying there, and she sat on the edge of the bed. There was… a virus inside of him, something burrowed deep inside of him, burning and tearing at his very being. She reached out with healing magic, mending and repairing what she could. Faith's words flowed in her mind, and she worked as best she could.

"How did you know all that?" Alistair asked as she did, noting the blue ring of magic and deciding not to inquire further. "I mean, the Chant is usually written down for people, unless you're in a Chantry, and… well, you…"

"Are blind?" Mara smiled, and he looked away, blushing, running a hand along the back of his neck. "Why, I asked some nice elven woman to tell it to me. She was talking in Elvish, and kept yelling something about a Mythal and blasphemy, but I got the gist of it." She giggled, focusing on healing him. "We had a small Chantry in the Circle, and I went there most days, since I didn't have much to do. Eventually, one of my Templar friends, a man named Cullen, managed to find me a couple of books for people like me, ones that you can read with your fingers. I read the written version of the Chant a lot, found solace in it's words."

"Of course." Morrigan shook her head, sighing. "Yet another person brainwashed by the Chantry. At least they had a reasonable excuse with you."

Mara almost lost the spell at that, quickly catching it and continuing her work. How dare she, how could she… "Morrigan." She took a calm, slow voice. "I know you mean well, and you seem like a fine person, but this is my god, my religion, and my beliefs. So, I kindly ask you to please: Shut. Up. Alright?"

Morrigan's eyes widened, but she nodded after a moment. "I… yes, I… didn't mean..."

Mara shook her head and stood. "He's beyond my ability." She said, shaking off the words. "I think I managed to do a little, maybe killed a small fever, but that's it. I… don't know what else to do." Even Faith's words had failed her, those that had mended an irreparable leg back to working condition. But then again, it somehow hadn't felt… the same, as if something had gone out of her magic. The teachings remain, but it was if there had been some assistance with her leg, now gone.

"He looks… gone." Leliana offered slowly. He already looked like a corpse, as if he had been dead for months now. That Mara felt a spark of life at all in him was a miracle. "I wouldn't blame yourself, if you were to ask me I would say there's nothing to be done at all. That you could do anything surprises me."

"What do we do now?" Alistair asked, sitting down. Anxiety had knotted his chest into a painful ball, and he needed something stable, something to hold him through this. What if Eamon died? His father, the man who had taken care of him for so many years… even if their parting terms were sour, he had lost so much in only a few short days, he couldn't bear to see another.

"I don't know." Mara shook her head. "I'd hoped that Isolde's healers were basic physicians, that I would be able to fix it, but I don't know of anyone better at healing, and I can't do anything for him." She hung her head. "Looks like this is another thing I'm not good at."

"It's not your fault." Leliana insisted, running her fingers along her arm, biting her lip as she felt the raised scars that both hurt and comforted. "We're no worse off than before you tried, right? It was worth a try, and whatever you did might be able to buy him time."

"Thanks." She nodded. "Well… anyone have any ideas?"

"I think..." Alistair collected himself, looking up at the rest of them. "I hate to say it, but Isolde's idea seems to be the only lead we have."

"Wait." Morrigan spoke up, looking over to him and her eyes shooting open. "You _can't_ be serious, surely?! I… you are going to go off, chasing a Chantry story that might not help him, and might not even _exist_?!"

"Well I don't hear you pitching any ideas!" He shouted, standing. "We can't just leave him like this! So if you have a better idea, please speak up!"

"Calm down!" Mara shouted, and they both shrunk away. "Okay. Alistair's idea is out there. Morrigan, what is your suggestion? Do you have an idea of what we do instead?"

"We leave." She shook her head, speaking coldly. It… hurt, to do this to Alistair. He might not be her favourite person in the world, but, much as she loathed to say it, it would hurt to lose her own mother. And he was clearly in agony over this. "Listen to me. We're banking all of our hopes on a man who might not even help us. And this idea..." She shook her head again, meeting his shocked gaze. "Listen to me. We need to go for real allies, concrete allies. The Blight isn't going to stop for us while we help him."

"I can't believe you, I..." Alistair stopped himself, realizing the uselessness of it. "Whatever. I… forget it. I think he'll be our biggest help, our stoutest ally, and he needs our help. He has an army, men at his disposal, and political power across the country. If we help him when he needs us..."

Mara sighed, standing up, leaning on her staff. Maker's breath, but this was going to hurt. "Alistair, I-" Her voice caught in her voice, and she looked down. "I agree with Morrigan."

"What?!" He shouted, and she flinched away. "How can you say that?!"

"Alistair, I'm sorry." She pleaded, balling her hands together. "I know how much this means to you, I really do. I don't have parents, and if I had them only to lose them like this..." She gritter her teeth, the whole of her being shaking in terror. "But this isn't about us. Eamon's only one man, and I see no army here. If this was just us, I would follow you without a question to find the ashes. But we have a responsibility, as Grey Wardens. A responsibility to the people we protect, to those who escaped Lothering as their homes were consumed, to everyone watching in horror. To everyone who didn't make it out of Ostagar." She sighed, hating herself. "I'm sorry, but what would Eamon say?"

He stared at her, unable to speak. Surely there was an argument to be made, they couldn't just leave him here. That was immoral, evil, wrong, irresponsible…

And the right thing to do.

"I know." He said at last, defeated. "He… wouldn't want this. I think we can help him, truly, but… we're one group, and we can't waste time on this."

"Wait." Leliana contested, stepping forward. "Eamon's name is known even in Orlesian courts, he's fought and shed blood beside Loghain. The Blight's a danger, but we also need to consider that, no?" Mara opened her mouth to speak, but Leliana cut her off. "Listen. There are four of us, yes? Two of us can hunt after the Ashes, save him before it's too late, and the other two can go searching for other allies. We cannot do everything before the Blight strikes us, splitting up is a reasonable idea in any case. We meet here in a few weeks, regroup and see what we've accomplished?"

That… could work." Mara conceded, nodding slowly. "Alistair, you and Leliana are the ones that want to save Eamon. You two could go search for the Ashes, me and Morrigan both go off to find more allies. We meet back here in four weeks, with or without results, and see what we have. That should be time to travel, work with what we have, and return. If someone gets here first, they wait a week, and if the others don't show up, they make plans of their own."

"That… sounds acceptable, except we can't do it like that." Alistair shook his head, and all heads turned to him. "You and Morrigan are both mages. If you're attacked by Templars or something similar… or if we encountered something we couldn't fight physically…"

"That's true." Nodded Mara. "Okay. I'll take Leliana with me instead. You and Morrigan go look for the Ashes."

"Grand." Morrigan sighed, rolling her eyes, but said nothing more.

"We'll head to Orzammar."

"Orzammar?" Alistair asked in disbelief. "Mara, that's a three week journey to get there, at minimum. If we need allies immediately, go to the Circle. They're a week's journey."

Mara was taken aback by the suggestion, cold dread striking her at the possibility. "Forget it then." She shook her head vehemently. "I'm not going there. We'll go look for the Ashes."

"We can't do that." Leliana turned to her. "I'm willing to go with you, but we'd be looking for some sort of ruin hidden in a frozen mountain. Without your eyes..."

"That was what Mara said, and I agreed." Alistair shook his head sadly. "Look, go to Orzammar, I-"

"No." Mara lifted her head. "I said that we're Grey Wardens, with responsibilities to so many people, and it's true. I'd be a burden in a mountain. My staff helps me walk, but it'd be impossible in the snow like that, and I can't be searching for these things. We need allies, and we needed them weeks ago. I'll… I'll go to the Circle."


	16. Seperate Paths

_A.N: Hey, would like to take an opportunity to remind you all that this is an M rated story BTW. This chapter isn't dark or sexual or anything, but ones that I have planned are, and will deal with mature subjects. I will place a TW at the beginning of chapters that are such. Thank you, and please enjoy!_

 _(Also, I can't find a time frame for how long Leliana was imprisoned. Anyone know? A few days? Weeks? Months? Facts or headcanons are both welcome in this consideration)_

* * *

Cold. Biting, ever present, burrowing it's way into everything.

Morrigan shivered, and curled up around herself, sitting as close to the bonfire as she could. Alistair had, through some miracle, managed to get it working even in the cold of the blizzard, some magic even beyond her. All her attempts had been futile, to say the least, dying out before it could reach the wood, even when she held her hand dangerously close.

Alistair returned, a pile of logs cradled in his hands, tossing them onto the fire and prodding them with his sword until they caught the fire as well, bringing a welcome wave of heat. "There." He said contentedly, sitting back down next to her. "That will… keep it away for the moment." Morrigan nodded, teeth chattering so much that she couldn't talk. "Still cold?" She nodded, and he sighed. "Here." He took off his cloak and handed it to her. "I've been up here before. You never remember how cold it is, but you've probably never even seen snow before." She shook her head, pulling it over as a blanket.

"Thank you." She said, the normal elegant sarcasm gone from her voice as she breathed in the warmth. "I… why, exactly?" He glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "Why help me?"

He shrugged. "You were cold."

"That's not an answer."

"It is to me."

She looked to him, but he said nothing more. With warmth and comfort beginning to burrow their way into her, rooting out the cold, she realized how exhausted she was. They had been walking for _days_ , and had climbed until her arms and legs had all but given out. Soon her eyes began to waver. _Now's not a time to be sleeping_. She chided herself and began to reach up with a spell to keep herself away, but he lifted a hand and it was dispelled in an instant.

"Don't." He turned to her, and smiled. "You're not used to this. Get some sleep. I'll watch out for anything, promise."

"How did you-" She began, but he held up a hand, silencing her in a moment.

"Old Templar." He explained simply. Her eyes widened, and he spoke again before she could speak. "If I wanted to hurt you, I'd have done it by now. Get some sleep, really." _How dare he suggest as such?_ She thought a moment, her mind scrambling. _Surely he… he…_

 _He could have easily done so_.

"Sleep" He said again, standing. "I'll keep watch, I promise."

This time she made no effort to argue. She laid the cloak down, and laid upon it before pulling it over, and soon fell asleep.

* * *

A noise sounded in the distance, and Mara stood to attention, staff in hand. She listened carefully, heart beating in her chest, until it passed. Small footsteps, likely nothing more than a small animal. Darkspawn weren't intelligent enough to understand being quiet, and any sort of bandit would have heavier steps in any case.

Sitting back down, she counted as she hear more footsteps behind her. Quiet, elegant, deliberate, not stepping all the way to the ground. She knew what she was doing, paying close attention to her every muscle.

"Evening, Leliana." Leliana jumped at the words, almost tripping over herself in the process. "You're quiet, but I spent my entire life listening to people walk." She twisted around, raising an eyebrow. "Why were you trying to sneak up on me?"

"I-I-I." Leliana stumbled over her words as much as her feet, recovering. "I didn't think I was. It's just the way I'm used to walking."

"Of course." Mara didn't believe her. Leliana seemed sincere enough, and she didn't believe she was actively lying, attempting to hurt her. After all, if she had wanted to kill her, it would have been so easy at this point. But she certainly had more than a few things to hide and needed more than a few lessons in how to keep it tucked away.

"May I sit next to you?" Leliana asked after a second, and Mara nodded, motioning to spare space on the log she was sitting on. Her footsteps were graceful, quiet, deft, deliberate, and she sat daintily next to her. "Thank you. I couldn't sleep, and thought it would be better to come and talk to you instead of sitting in bed."

"Forgive me if I don't believe that." Mara sighed, turning her head back to the road and listening close. It was her watch, after all. "I'm… wary of having someone I hardly know being around while I sleep, sneaking up on me." _Not that women had ever partook, made things harder, oh no, but they would watch, tell her she deserved it…_

"Oh." Leliana's voice fell a little, but then she nodded emphatically. "Of course. I would do the same in your position." She turned to look at her. "I… really didn't mean to be quiet."

"I know." Mara smiled at her. "It's okay, so long as you understand my… trepidation."

A beat passed in silence, then Leliana spoke once more. "I…" She trailed off, and Mara looked back to her. _Idiot_. She thought to herself. She couldn't ask that, surely, but… she needed something else to say in lieu of it. "I… have I ever told you I really like your hair?"

Mara moved her head back, taken aback a moment. No one had ever really complimented her much before, and the few people who had, hadn't been terribly sincere, always with another motive. But… Leliana wasn't like that. For all that she was, for all that Mara distrusted over her, she was entirely guileless. Whatever she was hiding, she wasn't hiding specifically from her, but the world. "T-thank you." She stammered, turning her head so that Leliana wouldn't see the hint of a blush that she gave.

Leliana sighed inwardly, and smiled. Yes, that would work. A nice, safe topic, far away from death and misery. "Oh yes." She smiled. She meant it too, Mara's hair did look quite nice, especially the little braid that she kept at the front. "It's very nice, and it suits you. Nothing like the elaborate hairstyles we wore in Orlais, oh no. They involved ribbons, flowers, jewelry…" She smiled as she remembered. "You know, there was an Orlais noblewoman, Lady Elise, who always felt the need to… outdo everyone else. One year, feathers were by and far the most popular, and so she actually wore live songbirds in her hair!"

"You're kidding." Mara scoffed, shaking her head as she laughed at that. Oh yes, this was a much safer, much more comfortable topic, one that forgot that the world around them was ending. Granted, she knew only a little about birds, being unable to see, and being locked away her life, but she knew more than enough to know the problems this would bring, with any living animal.

"Not at all." Leliana giggled. "The chirping was quite charming for a while, but you must realize, terrified little birdies often have… well, you know, loose bowels." Mara nodded, smiling as she listened intently for more. "I tried to feel bad for her, but really I felt worse for the birds." She paused a moment, smiling, then shook her head. "But I was trying to compliment you, wasn't I? Forgive me, my mind wanders so much."

"That's okay." Mara smiled. "I like that you feel comfortable enough around me to ramble."

"I am." Leliana smiled. Silence fell a moment, then she spoke again. "I… won't pretend to know what you're enduring, but… if you wanted to share anything about the Circle or anything to make it easier, I-"

"Don't." She said simply, and Leliana fell silent in her words. "I know you mean well, but don't go down this road. Don't pretend to know what I'm going through, the _hell_ that I endured in that place."

"Oh." Leliana blinked, and nodded. "O-of course. I didn't mean-"

"I know, Leliana. I know."

* * *

"Morrigan." Alistair hissed, shaking her, and she awoke. She groaned, sitting up. "I hear something. Footsteps."

"What?" She blinked, shaking the sleep from her eyes.

"Someone's coming." He stood cautiously, drawing his sword. "Stay watch. I'll yell if I see anything." She nodded emphatically, grabbing for her staff. He disappeared off into the blizzard, leaving her sitting there in the cold, a dead fire in front of her.

A moment later, something came from behind. She stood, but her throat was constricted by a Templar's strike at her, silencing all magic away. She turned just enough to see an armoured knight, who struck the back of her head with his metal cesus, and she fell to the ground. The world blurred, and cut into black as she hit the ground.


	17. Crossroads

_A.N: Sorry about the late update, crazy life. You'd think with unemployment, I could get one of these done in a day, good grief._

 _Also, I'd been considering something: Would anyone have any interest in seeing a rewrite of another story of mine, Judge, Jury and Executioner? I love the idea of that story, but admittedly don't really like the original. And the reasons as to why I quit writing it, while deeply personal, are mostly gone. What do you guys think?_

* * *

Morrigan hated where she was from the moment she awoke.

It was cold, damp, and miserable. Her hands were tied, and her head ached distantly from the blow she had suffered. Everything _hurt_ , her muscles were in agony, her clothes filled with snow. _What in the world had happened?_

"Morrigan." Alistair whispered, and she looked up. They were in a wooden cage, across from one another, hands bound by ropes. Frost licked up her neck, freezing cold all around them. "I'm so sorry." He shook his head. He looked… beaten. Physically he remained fine, but his face, his expression said differently. The dark glow of the moon above them shone down onto the snow and reflected back to illuminate their faces.

"What happened?" She murmured.

Alistair shook his head. "I'm not sure. I went out to see what had happened, but someone managed to sneak up on me, knocked the daylights out of me. When I woke up we were both here." He shook his head. "I'm so sorry. I wanted to try and protect us while we were out here, without the rest of the Wardens. And now… I really fucked it up."

Looking down, Morrigan tried to reach out with flickers of her flames to burn away the rope. Immediately, a shock came from seemingly nowhere, and she screamed. Electricity surged and repeated up and down her back, crashing through every nerve in it's path, making her throw her head back, screaming and trashing until it died.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, shaking his head.

"We have to get out of here." She hissed as it died down, looking up at him. "How?"

"We wait." He bit his lip, meeting her eyes morosely. "I know it sounds crazy, but trust me, alright?" She raised an eyebrow, but with the memory of the pain still fresh beyond belief, she agreed. "Their leader's been coming by to check on us. After he leaves the next time, we'll have a chance."

* * *

" _Welcome Home._ "

It was Pride's voice. Mara knew it at a moment, and she tried to stand, finding herself in the Fade, that she was dreaming now. Of course. She and Leliana had traded shifts, and she had gone off to sleep. Now she slept, and it had found her.

" _What's the matter?"_ It chuckled, the aspect of it's presence dangerously close to her, that she could even smell the rancid breath she was sure it held. " _Not even a hello?_ " She remained silent. It couldn't hurt she. It couldn't, surely. She had to keep reminded herself that. No. It wouldn't, it couldn't. So long as she remained quiet, she would be fine. " _Don't your… Templars, teach any manners?_ " Her breath caught a little, and she had to rebalance herself. " _I know. I know that they did to you, and you deserved it, didn't you?_ " Mara's breath caught. She was in a nightmare, and in no control. It was hot, almost like fire, as if she was trapped in a hell. She held no control, and Pride had placed them in what felt like a small room, fire engulfing it. She was… Maker's breath, the way it had formed her, she was naked.

"Stop." She whispered, and it laughed, long and languidly.

" _What's the matter?_ " It chuckled. " _Don't you want to remember your childhood?That which the Templars gave to you? To remember their bestial gazes, their vulgar laughs as they looked at your robes?_ " It slowed meaningfully. " _The way they grabbed at you?_ "

"Shut up." She ordered, biting away the memories. Normally when this happened, when a demon tormented her, Faith arrived. And yet… she was gone.

" _Say what I know you're going to_." It insisted, something akin to a feral smile across it's lips as it knew what it had done. " _Say the only thing they taught you. The thing that you believe._ "

"Cullen." She said meekly, her only example as to the flaw in it's thinking.

" _All he did was watch. Is that any better?_ " She stayed silent, and then it chuckled again. " _Say it_."

"Men are pigs."

It laughed at it's dominance, having forced her into saying it. " _That's right_." She squirmed, and a shiver of terror and uncomfortably ran through her. " _But I wonder what you think of that new Templar. Alistair. After all, you seemed to trust him quite easily_."

"He's different." She insisted, stepping forward, and it laughed again. "He hasn't tried anything, and never will. Our… his duties proceed him, and we both know that."

" _That is what a normal person would think_." It smiled at her. " _But remember how you couldn't stop it before. He's uncontrollable, all of them are._ " She couldn't help but cry inside. It was abusing her, torturing her through the memories. She knew what it said wasn't true, but still she believed it. " _Even if not, he'll just watch the next time._ "

"What do you want?" She sobbed. What could it gain from this, from her?

" _Kill him, and I'll let you go free._ "

* * *

"Morning." A low, rocky voice crawled across Morrigan's skin, waking her from her half-sleep. For a moment she'd thought it was Alistair, then realized it came from behind them. "Haven't been able to meet _you_ yet, pretty thing." Turning her head, she was faced down by a man with dark, sunken eyes and a feral smile as he knelt next to her. "What would your name be?"

"Fuck you."

He chuckled. "Very well, miss Fuck You. My name is Father Kolgrim. I'd shake your hand, but I get the feeling that if your hands were free, you wouldn't be civil, perse." Her magic flared up, only to be caught by the strangling collar of silence. "My point exactly. But, I wish to be a gentleman, and provide you a proper explanation." He crawled up so that he was kneeling right next to her. "Do you, miss, know of the Great Ones?"

"Fuck you." She repeated, turning her head to meet his eyes.

He sighed, and nodded. "Of course. Well, since I have a _captive_ audience, I shall still explain your purpose to you. They say that demons, and spirits, are the Maker's first born children, yes? That? Is not true. You see, the Great Ones were the Maker's true first children. Demons and spirits are borne from their majesty. Their wrath, their… emotion, is so strong, that it creates what we know." Kolgrim smiled. "Am I going to fast for you?" They remained silent. "They are not of flesh and blood. They had shape… but that shape is not made of flesh and bone. When the stars are right, they could plunge from world to world through the sky. But… the rest of the time, now that the stars are wrong… they cannot live. But although they no longer lived, they would never really die. They all lay in stone houses, in the Fade, in the ground, entrenched in the sea, within the stars themselves! Preserved by their strength, ready for a glorious resurrection when the stars and the earth might once more be ready for them."

"Do you have a point?" Morrigan spat at him. "Or are you going to sit there, attempting to bore us to death?"

Kolgrim punched the back of her head, grabbing her hair and lashing her back. "I _do_ have a point. You see, miss… what was it? Yes, Fuck. You. The Great Ones… are trapped. Magic keeps them sealed away. They will surely escape, one way or another. We, however, can help them along. We will court their favour, so that when they rise, we shall stand beside them as allies, instead of serving them as slaves. You? Are garbage. Worthless, refuse… but perhaps not entirely useless. We shall take you to a particular Great One's prison, and our mages shall use your blood to unseal them." He smiled. "So, sleep, slave. May you serve well." Then he stood, and left.

"Bastard." She hissed, and Alistair nodded.

"I know." He whispered hoarsely. "He gave me the same speech. But now that you're up, I've got an idea." He waited until Kolgrim left view, then nodded again. He reached up to the magic restraints, and released a tiny silence onto them, destroying the magic and letting him wring them off, repeating the process for Morrigan in turn.

"You could have done that this whole time?" She hissed angrily. "You mean you could have-"

"Quiet." He ushered, and she fell silent. "Listen to me. We can get out of here, but I need your help. I can't do it alone. Okay?" She nodded. "Okay. Lay back, pin your wrists like you're still bound, and call over the guard." He moved his head in the direction of a guard sitting across the clearing.

"E-excuse me." She called, and the guard lifted his voice. "I… we have a problem over here."

"Draw the short lot." He grumbled, and sauntered over. "This had better be good."

"We have a snake in here." Alistair lied so effortlessly, it made Morrigan shiver just a little. "Looks poisonous to me, and you don't want to lose us, right?" The guard stuck his head into the cage, and Alistair leapt into action. He grabbed the guard around the neck with the rope, and began to strangle the man. Morrigan''s eyes widened in horror, the awful, short gasps and screams the man let out, cut off by the rope, until he finally stopped thrashing.

"Oh…" Morrigan couldn't help but retch at the sight, and Alistair pulled back, gasping.

"What?" He asked, looking at her seriously. "Wouldn't you like to see that done to the rest of us?"

"Of course not." She whispered, trying not to look at the body. "I… I…"

"It's okay." Alistair whispered, kneeling next to her, and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You've never seen someone like that, huh?" She shook her head. "It's hard the first time, no matter who you are. But look at me." She looked over, and met his dark, serious gaze. "Listen to me. We can get out of here. But I need your help to do that. I can't do this alone. Okay?"

"Okay." She nodded, and Alistair grabbed the keys from the dead guard.

"Then let's get going."

* * *

Mara felt like a prisoner once more. She sat in the simple rowboat, her feet dangling over the edge and into the water as Leliana rowed them over the lake and to the Circle. It was a nice feeling, the cold water as the moon bore down upon them, but she couldn't hide the terror that awaited. She was _here_ again, and it wasn't likely to be any more merciful this time. She took a deep sigh, and tried to dispel the dread she felt, creeping up and into her bones and mind.

The ship came up onto the shore, and Leliana threw aside the oar, and knelt down by her. "Are you okay?" She whispered, and Mara nodded. "Are you sure? Wh-"

"Leliana." Mara begged. "Please. Shut up."

"Oh." Leliana's expression fell, and then she nodded slowly. "I'm sorry."

"Let's get going. No more prolonging the inevitable."


	18. Freedom

_A.N: Hey ya'll, sorry this is super, super late. I've had an ungodly bad string of medical news, and left in some precarious positions, leaving me unavailable to write for a long time. Sorry about that. I wanted this chapter to be about twice as long, but considering how late it was, I just found an acceptable stopping point, and thought I'd send it on over to ya'll. Enjoy._

* * *

"Oh, like I needed this today."

Mara tensed a little at hearing the familiar voice, but gripped her staff firmly as she stood her ground. "Gregoir." She gritted her teeth, ready for anything. Here she was, a mage, surrounded by Templars, men who had tormented her for so many years, and she felt… awake. Fearless. Whatever happened, she was free of them, and freedom was preferable to death.

"This is your play." Leliana whispered. Her bow was slung across her shoulder, not wanting to start a fight immediately, but her hands fingered at a butterfly styled knife under her belt. "But you're not on your own."

"And who are you?" Gregoir hissed at Leliana. "Can you tell me why an escaped mage wanders in here with someone armed to the teeth?"

"You're dealing with me." Mara spoke up before Leliana could say anything, putting two fingers to her chest. "Not her."

"I'm going to have to yell at Cullen for telling us you had been ended." The Templar sighed, and shook his head. "Why don't you just cut to what you want? What you _think_ is going to happen here?"

"First of all, I sincerely hope you're not thinking about capturing me again." She lifted her head, taking a step forward. Why was she doing this? Doubt cast it's eternal shadow over her thoughts, but confidence shone through instead. She wasn't a slave any longer, and she wouldn't be so again. She was a _Warden_ , and she wouldn't fail her fallen brothers. "My friend and I here are now Grey Wardens. Don't make yourself regret this meeting."

"I already do." He shook his head again, and Leliana redoubled her grip on the hilt.

"We have treaties promising the support of mages." She took another step forward. She was significantly shorter than the Templar, but that didn't do much to diminish the palpable atmosphere, to ease the stand off. "And, for once, I'm going to get what I want."

"You do realize that Loghain has been looking for Wardens?" He stepped towards her, so they were mere inches apart. "That we could not only kill you without repercussion, but would be _rewarded_?"

"If you thought you could kill me, then why haven't you done it yet?" He was silent a moment. "If you _could_ kill me, I'd already be dead." Again, he was silent and she nodded. "So how _are_ you going to approach this?"

He sighed. "Look, it doesn't matter. Even if I wanted to, I can't help you. Uldred, one of our senior mages, has taken over the Circle. Turned to blood magic, summoned demons, the whole deal. I'm not going to add trying to kill you ontop of that. Your friend seems dangerous at any rate."

"Isn't it your job to kill demons and blood mages?" She challenged, her voice cool and level.

"It's beyond containment." He shrugged. "We're keeping the foyer here defended, and have sent for reinforcements. When they arrive, we'll go through and kill every last one of them, demon or not."

Mara shook her head. "The rite of annulment. That is just like you, Gregoir."

"You haven't seen it in there." He snarled.

"Low blow." Mara mocked, smiling as she tapped her blindfold.

"Fuck you." He looked away, running his hand through his hair. "Look, you want to go in there, and get killed, be my guest."

Mara thought a moment, then nodded. "I will." Gregoir looked back at her, confused. "And I'm going to walk out of there with all of the mages still living by my side, and you won't be able to stop me from leaving with them."

He opened his mouth to argue, only to find himself with his jaw hanging open as she followed her memories past the foyer, and into the halls.

* * *

Again and again the whip came down. Lyla screamed, begging for mercy as her mind began to crumble under the torture. "No more." She whispered, voice cracking through pressure and pain, agony from every wound that the cultists had inflicted. Something covered the whip, poison of a sort, that made the cuts and scabs putrefy and infect beyond any reasoning she could have come to prior.

"Help is just a letter away." Her torturer reminded her, smiling a little as he took satisfaction in his handiwork. "The rest of these whelps will be made to serve the Great Ones, but you needn't suffer that fate. One letter, and you go free."

Even in spite of the piercing and breaking agony, she shook her head. "I can't." She whimpered. "Anything else but that."

"That's your only offer." He scoffed, shaking his head. "This isn't a negotiation."

"Then I die." She hung her head. "I won't do it, no matter what I suffer."

The torturer shook his head, and turned a bucket of water over her head, seeping it into the wounds and making her blink away, any collected weariness disappearing, ensuring she would remain awake for the hours to come. "I will offer you one more time, at sunrise. After that, if you deny us again…" At that, he left, locking the door to her cage behind him, leaving her to fall limp in shame.

Eventually, as the darkness began to cloud in her mind once more, only held back by the lingering and ever present pain, whispers were heard across from her cage. For a moment she thought it a trick, yet another way of these… _monsters_ attempting to break away her will, but upon looking up she saw a different story.

Across from her cage was the cultists armoury tent, so that they would always be able to easily grab ' _utensils'_ to use on their favourite plaything. There stood a man and a woman, her arming herself with a staff and robes, while he dressed in heavy armour with a weapon and shield together.

"You." She hissed at them, and they whipped around to face her. "Yes, you. How in the world did you escape?" Alistair and Morrigan glanced at one another, unsure of how to proceed. "It doesn't matter. You have the keys, you must. Listen to me, if you let me out of here I can repay you." Again they glanced at each other. "Look. I own land, have treasuries full of coin. Whatever you want, you can have it." Silence passed, only broken by the crackling of the torch sconces. "I'm a lady of the North, in the Free Cities. My ladies-in-waiting hold influence in the courts, I… I-I-I have a brother who's a commander in an army! Please, please just let me out of here!"

Her voice cracked as she begged. This could easily be a trick by the enemy, but it didn't matter. Anything was better than her current position. Alistair and Morrigan conferred briefly.

"I don't trust this." Morrigan hissed. "We don't know the first thing about these people. For all we know, we let her out, and we wind up back in their cages."

"And if she's not one of them?" he raised an eyebrow. "Look at the poor woman, she's at her wits end. No one's that good an actor. Besides, if what she says is true, we need every last ally we can get."

"She could just as easily be lying." She pointed out. "If you want to drag her along, I won't stop you."

Making a decision, Alistair stood and unlocked her cage, approaching and untying her hands. "Bless you." She gasped, thanking the Maker that her prayers had been answered by angels sent to her. "Bless you, bless you. I promise, I will give you everything that is mine once we are free of here. I swear to you."

"First we need to get out of here." Alistair helped her to her feet. She had obviously been attacked, beaten and broken for many days, her bloody body was full of angry red wounds that were infested and poisoned, with many more scabbed over. "Stay quiet, stay low, and follow my lead."

"Of course." She nodded. "I'll be as quiet as a Chantry Mouse."


	19. Nexus

_A.N: So... this has been a long time coming. Literally, and figuratively as well. Still stuck in a hospital, doctors are trying desperately to figure out what happened to me. Best they can figure, either I had a complete psychological break-down and will have a long and difficult road to recovery, or I have a rare and deadly brain disease, and will never get the chance to recover. Brain scan next week. Yay._

 _In any case, enjoy a new chapter. This one might seem a little more confusing, but it deals with confusing subjects that I tried to keep as clear as I could. It's... unique, something I haven't done the likes of before, so please let me know what you think. If it completely and utterly sucks, I want to hear that. Enjoy._

* * *

It was at the edge of the camp that Alistair realized something was wrong.

It was a small, subtle thing, a whisper on the wind, the slightest instinct of something being amiss. Shadows dancing the wrong way. He glanced over, and saw the smallest thing move out of sight, behind a cover and away from seeing eyes.

"Move." He hissed, and the others obeyed without question as he led them into the edge of the frozen tundra forests, sprinting as quickly as they could. It wasn't until they were out of sight of the camp that he whispered instructions, diving behind a rock and hiding with baited breath.

"What are you-" Morrigan began to ask, before he clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Shut. Up." He barked harshly. "We're being followed."

"Maker." Lyla's voice was barely louder than her breath. "I can't go back. I can't, I can't, I-"

"Shut. Up." Even though Alistair doubted his eyes, unsure of what they had seen, if it had only been a flicker in the darkness, he realized something. They would have found them missing by now, and there would be shouting in the distance., horns blaring. They would know if they had been found out.

Soon enough, it revealed itself. Through the trees tread a monster of shadow and darkness, looking almost human aside from how it crawled on all fours, quickly and with purpose, almost like a spider. Alistair held his breath and waited a moment longer before bringing his sword to bear. He jammed it down, and through it's back, pinning it to the ground, and it was all he could do to not cover his ears with the blood curdling scream that carried across the valley.

Before he could react further, a burst of magic came down, and shattered it to pieces, the shadows that held it together scattering into the winds. Alistair looked over, met Morrigan's eyes, nodded, and then ran as fast as his feet would carry him.

Men were shouting, and they were quickly followed. They enjoyed only a brief few moments before men found them, blowing on signal horns and screaming, chasing after them. The three of them were running on adrenaline, a frenzy of fear and terror, but they were starving, dehydrated, and sickly, not to mention Lyla's injuries…

That was it. Alistair realized how they were being followed. Lyla's wounds, dripping blood onto the white cover of snow. How he had thought of it in the feverishness of their escape, the shouts and horns following them, knowing blood and death awaited. They couldn't hide it, and they couldn't run forever. Glancing over his shoulder, he counted twenty men in closer pursuit. They couldn't win in a fight.

"Run!" He ordered, drawing his sword and readying his shield.

"What?!" Morrigan shouted back at him. "What are you doing?!"

"Only a few men." He shrugged. "I kill them, they will have a harder time following. Keep going, I'll have at them!" A moment later, they reached him. His blade managed to find two before a polearm struck his shield, and he stepped back, preparing himself.

Looking back, Morrigan saw him stumble, and take another with him. Then she turned her head, and guided Lyla through the woods.

* * *

The bolts slid shut on the door behind them as Mara and Leliana stepped into the halls of the Circle, the Templars locking them in with the rest of the damned. A silent, deathly stillness hung in the air, nothing left alive in the once great halls, of their libraries and storerooms. Nothing stirred as far as they could see, nothing sounded except for the echoes of their footsteps and the crackling of Leliana's torch illuminating the darkness.

"Something's wrong here." Leliana's whispered words thundered in the still air as she looked down the hallways. "They said blood mages and demons had taken over the Circle, no? Where are they then?"

"I don't know." Mara shook her head. Something deep within the floors echoed through the Fade, faint and distant. Leliana looked over her shoulder, seeing nothing but darkness, and Mara understood. They were being stalked. "This way." She hissed, and led Leliana along.

Up ahead was an intersection, a common room that led off into four separate halls, including the one they approached from. Several bodies were piled almost neatly together, the steel plate and robes blending together.

"Oh Maker." Leliana looked away from the gore. "They… they are all-"

"I know." Mara nodded, putting her hand on Leliana's, trying not to breathe too deeply in. "I can smell the… rotting."

"It's not just that." She shook her head, unsure of what absurd combination this was, of being utterly mortified from death, and excitement at the other woman's touch, not that she could focus on that at the moment. "They… are all piled together. It looks… Maker, it looks deliberate."

"I…" Mara trailed off, her mouth agape a little. Around the bodies swirled a mass of death and miasma, but beyond that, something at the edge of the Fade, tugged through the barriers, starting at her. Tiny, a wisp of a wisp, free for a moment as it stared through the Fade at her. The loss of life, so massive and sudden, had created a rift in the Fade, and through it Mara _saw_ , saw without sight, things that no mortal was ever meant to. Things that would have driven any non-seer mad in a moment.

Things that had been, things that had happened, things that were to come.

A flash, and she found herself standing once more at the tower of Ishal, but this time she heard there was _everything_. Every hero, every coward. Every life, every death.

Another, and she saw the fates of the dead, Mages and Templars beset by an army of demons, their fellows with bleeding hands destroying the barriers between worlds, words of demons crawling in their skulls.

For a moment, she stood before a great demon, the warmth of a fire dying under her feet as she stood. It laughed, but she did not shake.

A Hawk flew in a sea of darkness, flowers and children under her wings as she fought desperately to outpace the dark.

She stood in a city, burning as Darkspawn threw torches and blood onto the pavement, a Dragon above and a Demon within.

Now the hawk stood against darkness once more, but it was built of fear instead of darkness, and there were many more under wings, kittens and birds.

A bright, all-consuming light stood in the way of everything, consuming all in it's path, with only two beings made of darkness visible in the light: One a darkspawn, and the other a man dressed in red and made of willpower and grief, a lion.

Now they stood once more, but instead were surrounded by darkness instead of light.

A wolf stood, cloaked in darkness and shadow, grief weighing heavy on his shoulders. She, the hawk, and the lion stood against him, but there was another beside, a child barely a woman, voices in her head and ears, who stood along with them.

Years of information all in moments, before Leliana could even finish asking what's wrong, and Mara screamed at what she saw, falling down onto her knees and begging for the sight to leave, before all faded into darkness, and she fell onto her back. All of the light in the room faded, and Leliana was left alone, in the darkness, as demons swarmed the room to claim the seer.


	20. Stand

_Standing in a ford, hand around blade. Striking, terrifying fear. Another's fallen, blood like rubies from a mine, death on the water. Have to continue, for her, for everyone._

 _Gripping tighter, and charging._

* * *

 _Back home. Somehow I'm here. Somehow I'm not in the battle anymore. No more blood. No more death. I've never been home, never had anywhere I felt safe, but… here. It's here._

 _A soft warmth came up to hug, whispering words that can't be understood. A child, love coming from her._

 _And… behind her. Smiling without a figure. The first time ever seeing a smile, seeing without seeing, feeling the warmth, the joy._

 _It was Leliana, and love followed her too._

* * *

Mara awoke with a gasp, immediately recoiling. She was lying down, back in her bed at the Circle. Maker's breath, but awful memories came flooding back of all the nights she had spent crying in this bed, feeling filthy, unworthy. She gasped again and quickly shifted up until she felt a firm hand on her chest, making her squirm.

"Hush." Leliana's words were soft, but forceful. "It's alright."

"Leli?" She croaked, her mind struggling to comprehend everything. "Wha-"

"You've been thrashing about in your sleep." Leliana soothed. "I heard you scream more than once. You're safe. I've got you." Mara wasn't sure why, she'd heard so many promises of safety, especially here in the Circle, but something in it made her _believe_.

"I…" She cleared her throat, composing herself. "I-I saw…"

"Breathe." Leliana whispered. "Don't panic." Mara took a deep breath and nodded. "You saw?"

"The future." She croaked. "Everything. I…"

 _You were there._

 _I loved you._

Leliana scrunched her brow, looking at her strangely. "What?"

"The seer dreams." She gasped, then realized how little sense that made. "I'm… different. The magic… I can't see, but the magic fills in for it. I can see things, things that have already happened, will happen, are happening. I don't… see, but they happen, and I know of them. It… doesn't make sense, I know. I'm probably the only living seeress, and it is difficult to study."

Leliana took a breath to ask, but then saw the fear and desperation in the face of the poor woman, then nodded. Whatever this was, it didn't matter. What was of more importance was what was happening right in front of her. She ran her fingers through the hair of the young mage, and smiled. "Anything good?"

"What?"

Leliana's smile grew. "You know. Did you see anything good?"

 _I saw you._

Mara shook her head. "Without seeing, it's hard to tell what's happening sometimes. Usually it's not clear what I saw until it happens, and I look back on it."

"Oh." Leliana shook her head. "Of course." She had a million questions, but now, when Mara looked a step away from falling apart, she knew all that was to be done was to protect her.

Silence fell for a moment, then Mara spoke again. "Where are we?"

"In one of the rooms." Leliana explained. "When you fell, demons attacked. I fought them off, and dragged you off to the closest quiet place. I've been keeping watch, but nothing's come to attack us yet."

"They won't." Mara grumbled, then immediately regretted it, biting down on her lip.

"Why?"

Mara hung her head, and sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees and curling up. "This was… my room, for many years."

Taken aback, Leliana looked around the room. "H-how can you tell?"

"I'd know this bed anywhere." Mara shook her head. "I've woken up screaming too many times in it. There are powerful magic seals placed around the entire room. No mage holds any power in here, I can't cast any magic here, nor could anyone else. Any demons… would see great suffering, if not simply be banished entirely. Anything to hold a seer, they spared no expense keeping me tied here."

"Why?"

Mara took a moment, and Leliana was worried she had stepped on a nerve for a moment, before she spoke. "Power. Magic… compensates. While you need a hand to cast it, people who lose limbs often gain power over magic. I knew an elven woman who needed supports to walk, but she was one of the best mages the Circle had ever seen. Not all mages who are blind are seers, but all of them who are, are blind. For losing our sight, we gain the ability to see… other things. With what we see comes increased power much of the time, so I'm more powerful of a mage than most anyone here, though the Templars never allowed me to hone it."

Leliana nodded, understanding a little more. "I don't know if I'll ever understand magic, but… if anyone had to be the only Warden with me, I'm glad it's you."

Mara's face turned cold, the words setting off some deep set trauma inside of her, the words echoing what the Templars had told her. There it was. Now it was obvious, surely that was the reason Leliana had stayed with her, the only reason any of them were there for. "Why?" She hissed, standing up. "The Templars kept me locked in here and abused every last of my visions for themselves! You're glad that you lot get the same privileges? What, you're glad _I_ am the one cursed to live like this?!" Shocked for a moment, realizing her poor word choice, Leliana opened her mouth to explain herself, but was cut off abruptly. "I get it. You think that me seeing the future will help against the Darkspawn. That's all you want. My talents."

"Mara, I-"

"Go ahead and rape me like they did!" She yelled. "Apparently that's all I'm good at. It's all the Templars ever wanted, beside the future. You know, the damned walls in here are soundproofed too! Go ahead, I'm helpless in here. All I can do in here is see the future. You want to use me, do it in every way you can!"

"I don't-"

Before she could say anything, Mara fell to her knees and began sobbing. After a moment, Leliana slid down to be by her, wrapping her arms around the young woman, whispering soothing words until her tears turned only into quiet whimpers. That wasn't what Leliana wanted, and Mara knew that, but deep down, hearing words that could be taken as such, here in the room where she had spend a agonizing ten years of her life… it had set her off, completely, and now she was, yet again, helpless.

"I wasn't always a Chantry sister." Leliana spoke, and her words, barely a whisper, still rung in the silence of the room. "Do you know what I was?" Mara shook her head. "I was a Bard."

"You sang?"

Leliana shook her head. "Bard… means something else in Orlais. They sing, they tell stories… but they're spies. They work in the shadows, for patrons. Some of us worked for gold, others for a cause, some… for love." She lowered her head. "The love of my life was my patron. Marjoline. I can't describe to you how much I loved her, how wonderful she was. She was… everything. She was like a star down here, and all I could do was be drawn by her light. And one day… she betrayed me. Sold me to a monster, like I was her property." Her voice broke, and she looked away, but kept speaking. "They did the same things to me that they did to you. Two… _agonizing_ weeks, I spent in those dungeons." She pulled back from Mara, clasping her on the shoulders. "I _am_ grateful that you are our Grey Warden. Not because you can see the future, not because you're pretty. I'm grateful because you are a wonderful woman, and when I look at you, I _believe_. I believe we can fight, that we can overcome… that we can survive."

"Leliana-"

"The worst part about being in the prison?" Leliana continued. "Was that I was alone in it. Alone in the world." She cupped Mara's face. "You're _not_ alone. Don't believe that."

"Leli…" She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. For what happened, and… for lashing out. I didn't mean it, truly, I-"

"It's _fine_." Leliana smiled, and it was the second smile Mara had ever felt. "You want to make it up to me? _Stand_. Fight. Because I believe in you."

"I can't." Mara begged, sobbing again. "I've been nothing for so many years. Look at me. I ran from the Circle, I ran from Ostagar, I… damnit, I couldn't even help you against those demons!"

"You can." Leliana assured her. "I've seen so many people in my life. So many. And I believe you can do this."

"Then teach me." Mara's tears stopped, and she looked up towards Leliana. "I… want you to teach me to hold a sword, Leliana. Teach me how to wear armor. I've… been a bystander to tragedy for so long. I've been helpless my entire life. I… I don't want that anymore. Teach me to be the person you think I am."

"Your first lesson? Stand."


End file.
